


Opposites Attract

by Asuka02RedEva



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Relationships, Best Friends, Bromance to Romance, Clueless Yuri Plisetsky, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Otabek Altin, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-22 02:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 95,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13157220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asuka02RedEva/pseuds/Asuka02RedEva
Summary: What started out as a series of Otayuri oneshots following The Hero of Kazakhstan and his comical endeavors while pursuing the infamous Russian Ice Tiger, has now become an actual story.Either way Yuri is quite clueless and Otabek is either a saint or certifiable?But they make it work.





	1. Chapter 1

Author’s Notes: I do not own Yuri!!! On Ice or any of the characters used within this story.

With that being said, this will be a series of one shots for Otayuri, in no particular order.  Sometimes they will contain “bromance”, friendship and humor.   If you are not a fan of this pairing, please do not waste your time.  If you are a member of the club, then without further ado please enjoy!

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Introduction: Mission Accepted

NNN

Yuri Plisetsky: He was beauty. He was grace. He would kick you in the face.

So why was it that Otabek Altin wanted so badly to befriend him?  In essence, Yuri’s eyes had originally enticed him, dubbing them ‘ _the eyes of a soldier’_ , but that couldn’t be his sole reasoning.  Otabek had made the decision, once the final’s line up had been announced, that he would seek out Russia’s Ice Tiger and ask for his friendship…

…but things weren’t going at all to his plan…

First Attempt: Hotel Lobby

_“Huh? What’s with you asshole?”_

…He was certain that being called an asshole was the opposite of friendship…

(Status: Abandon Ship!!!!)

Second Attempt: The Rescue!

Thank God he had rented that motorbike for his stay in Barcelona. It had come in so handy, especially as he heard rabid teenagers sniffing the streets like bloodhounds, closing in on one: Yuri Plisetsky.  

_“Where’s Yuratchka?”  “We’re about to have a fan meeting!”_

Here he had been thinking about his wasted opportunity, and now the gods were smiling upon him!

…So he’d pulled up on his motor cycle, told the blonde to get on, tossed him a helmet (why did he have two anyways?)…and without any further discussion, whisked the Russian away! 

(Status: Mission Accepted!  Damn social media.)

Third Attempt: Just Ask Him!

It wasn’t surprising to hear that Yuri didn’t remember him from Yakov’s summer camp, he wasn’t in his league after all…

Looking back, Otabek was pretty sure that the comment about the Russian’s eyes, had to be the lamest pick up line known to man, but he had noticed the boy’s faint blush in response, and believed that perhaps Yuri was unaccustomed to sincerity.

_“I’m a rival, right?”_

This was true.  Yuri Plisetsky may very well pose as his biggest rival in this competition, if the teen’s ego was of any evidence, but even still…

_“I’ve always thought we were alike…”_

So with an inhale of breath, he asked the question that had been plaguing him:

_“Are you going to become friends with me, or not?”_

…And as he took the tiger’s hand in his own, he felt a smile tug at his lips…

(Status: Cue the Fanfare!!!)

Friendship Attempt: The Café 

Why did friendship come with uninvited guests?!  Just when it was getting good, they had been talking about skating and just scratching the surface of their new budding friendship over tea and now…

 _“Why did we all have to get together?”_ Came the frustrated voice of the object of his affec—no, that’s wrong, his new _friend._  

Remember children: Stalkers are creepy, but Friends are good.

Otabek took in the conversation around him, stoically eating his salad, but his interest did peak when he heard about Katsuki’s dance off with Yuri.  As he thoughtfully continued to chew said salad, he kind of wished he could have seen that...until the photos got sent around…and then the Kazakh had to agree with Phichit, Katsuki wasn’t who he thought he was…

He was much dirtier.

What the hell kind of influence had Plisetsky been exposed to? No wonder they were occupying the same side of the table. These people weren’t right…

…Oh okay, now they were _married_ and wasn’t it customary to clap for the happy couple?  The blonde bombsh—tiger—to his right looked horrified!

But not to worry because the atmosphere went from celebratory to cutthroat in 2.5 seconds with everyone glaring at one Katsuki Yuri in response to the _gold medal_ comment (technically it was Viktor’s comment, but he wasn’t the one competing in this competition).  JJ’s friggin entrance concluded that dinner date and Otabek found himself walking alongside of Yuri, who was grumbling about _shitheads_.

(Status: Transmission Interrupted)

Friendship Attempt 2: Deal Breaker!

Welcome to the Madness: Enough Said! 

Friendship Level: ELITE!

(Status: Mission Accomplished)

So in reality, they were polar opposites, minus their taste in music.  Otabek was relatively stoic, while Yuri was boisterous.  The Hero of Kazakhstan was dark and masculine, while the Russian Fairy was light and lithe.  Otabek had a humble fan base, while Yuri had rabid fangirls fixated on his every move.  After Yuri won gold, his market value sky rocketed, but he remained the same foulmouthed rebellious punk he always was.

They’d been texting one another daily during the off season and Otabek was certain this was the one long distance _relationship_ that he could handle…besides, he didn’t really have any competition for the blonde’s affections, and he would make it his new personal mission:

Level Up: From Friendship to Romance!

…although it might take another 5 years to complete, he was willing to invest the time.  

 


	2. Birthdays are Thrilling

I do not own any of the songs and/or characters used in this one shot.

NNN

**Birthdays are Thrilling**

NNN

Otabek had gone home briefly at his family’s insistence for his birthday.  He had kind of—okay, who the hell was he kidding?  He had _really_ wanted to stay in Russia and spend his birthday with one: Yuri Plisetsky, but things had not gone according to plan.

Hell, things seldom worked in his favor when it came to the vivacious blonde…

A knock had come from his bedroom door a few minutes ago...and now he sat at his computer desk, with package in hand, contemplating its contents.  The writing on the label had drawn his attention, specifically the return address:  Юрий Плисецкий.

Just the thought of the Russian Ice Tiger sending him something made the normally stoic teen feel a tug at the corner of his lips.  God, he had it bad!!!

So after an excruciating amount of time he pulled the tape off the box and opened it to view the contents…

Object 1: Not surprising, humorous birthday card with cat on it.

Object 2: Random Russian Candies—because, who the hell doesn’t like candy for Halloween?!  (He could hear Yuri exclaiming).

Object 3: Now this one was real good…

Otabek didn’t know whether to laugh or blush as he held up the item at arm’s length…he could only recall Viktor’s words that night at the café, _“They’re a pair.”_

Yup! You guessed it!  Yuri Plisetsky had determined Otabek Altin to be cool enough to share his awesome fashion with!

The brown haired teen looked at the face of the tiger on that black hoodie, his eyes softening as he envisioned the smiling blonde with those infamous eyes.  He really wanted to text the one who had created this warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he recalled the little tiger bitching about,

_“Viktor and Katsudon are making me do some lame ass Halloween bullshit.”_

Otabek wasn’t sure what that might entail—probably handing candy out to small children?

His phone alerted him to a social media update.  Otabek would normally have just swiped the screen and disregarded the notification; however, the title made his thumb cease its movement.

_Viktor Nikiforov’s Halloween Inspired Show: Featuring Gold and Silver Grand Prix Finalists._

Well that was just too damn enticing to pass up…and look, it just so happened to be streaming live…

10 minutes later…

Wow, Viktor and Katsuki had just done some weird ass skate to _The Monster Mash._  Pretty sure he would never get the vision of Frankensuki and Viktula out of his head.  This must have been the _lame ass bullshit_ that Yuri had spoken of.  Of course, the Kazakh’s interest was piqued because he could not see the Russian ever willingly participating in some campy _Disney on Ice_ Halloween show.  His pride wouldn’t allow for the costumes and he pitied anyone who attempted to make the foulmouthed little punk wear one.

“Please welcome to the ice, this year’s Grand Prix Gold Medalist and Russia’s own, Yuri Plisetsky!”

The brunette damn near fell out of his chair from the feedback that shot out from his earbuds.  _Yuri’s Angels_ were making their presence well known from the stands.  Trying to regain hearing in his ears, he watched as movement came from a corner of the rink, the lights still low. 

_‘What had they managed to get him to agree to?’_ wondered Otabek, his eyes fixated on the screen…and how much blackmail would this lead to in the future?  Because, what were best friends for?

The music started with two steady beats and the house lights lit up on Russia’s Ice Tiger, wearing an iconic red jacket and tight black pants.

The Kazakh’s eyes widened; Yuri was performing Michael Jackson’s, “ _Thriller”._

Luckily, having expected the explosion which would hit his ear drums, courtesy of _Yuri’s Angels,_ Otabek was able to turn down the volume on his phone in time.  He now had a new appreciation for Halloween music…and the blonde had some serious moves.

By the second half of the show, the normally passive teen had adorned his new hoodie and was consuming his birthday candy.  He wasn’t sure that Viktor, Katsuki and Chris (who was apparently in town), doing _“I Put a Spell on You”_ was supposed to have _those_ themes…

He didn’t recall them in the movie _“Hocus Pocus”_ but who was he to judge?  At least their witch hats matched, while the rest of their fashion sense was a tad off.

When the name of his favorite blonde was announced, Otabek wondered what Viktor must be paying him for this gig?

This time as he skated to the center, Yuri wore all black, form fitting pants—uh, no the Kazakh wasn’t a pervert, he was just observant—and his black shirt and jacket just complimented the teen’s lithe form. 

Well he supposed that _“Poor Unfortunate Souls”_ was quite fitting…for Yuri never quite understood the reasoning behind Otabek’s friendship…or the power he seemed to possess over him.  He sighed, Yuri was pretty dense when it came to emotions outside of anger.

This was a much edgier version of the song, than the familiar Disney one, and the male persuasion was a perfect fit for the tiger.

_“I admit that in the past I’ve been a nasty. They weren’t kidding when they called me kind of strange. But you’ll find that nowadays, I’ve mended all my ways, repented, seen the light and made a change.”_

_Yuri’s Angels_ damn near busted Otabek’s eardrums again as Yuri seductively flipped his jacket, off his shoulders, with a lunge for emphasis.

_“And I fortunately know a little secret, it’s a talent that I always have possessed. And here lately, please don’t laugh, I use it on behalf of the miserable, the lonely and depressed, pathetic!”_

Goodbye jacket and hello triple toe loop.

_“Poor unfortunate souls, so sad, so true. They come flocking to me crying, ‘Will you help us pretty please?’ And I help them? Yes, I do!”_

Axel. Double Salchow.

Oh…he really loved this boy…

_“I’m a very busy person and I haven’t got all day. It won’t cost much, just your voice!”_

Flawless jump split. Yuri really was a great showman when it came to his craft.

_“If you wanna cross the bridge, my sweet, you’ve gotta pay the toll. Take a gulp, take a breath, go ahead sign the scroll. Now I’ve gotta her boys, the boss is on a roll…”_

Like all Russians, he handled those combos like a boss. Triple axel. Triple Toe.

_“Those poor unfortunate souls!”_

A flying sit spin and a dramatic conclusion to the program as the lights shut down.

Well…no wonder he was enamored with this boy…who was all but clueless to how friggin hard it was for Otabek not to confess his ever growing attraction.  Confessions aren’t cool…he would say to talk himself out of it each time…and rejection wasn’t either.

A few days later, a text came through alerting him to what exactly Viktor had used for compensation.

**Yuri:** I got 2 tickets to visit Cat Island in Japan!  There’s more cats than people on the damn island! Want to go during our next break?

Pretty sure you can imagine what Otabek’s response was…

NNN

Thanks for your support!

 

 

 

 


	3. Practice Makes Perfect

Author's Notes: Again, I do not own the characters and/or songs used in this one shot. Song is property of Lily Allen and used for entertainment purposes only. I feel the chorus sums up Yuri’s opinion of JJ.

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**Practice Makes Perfect**

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The first time Otabek saw Yuri practice was on a Saturday.  He’d arrived early thinking to have the rink to himself…yet the mass of teenage girls with their faces pressed against the windows of the arena told him otherwise.  If the cat ears were any indication, he knew exactly who was inside.  Upon entering the corridor, Otabek could hear the rhythmic sound of metal blades as they scraped the ice.

He stopped, gym bag resting on his shoulder, watching the form on the ice.  The Russian’s fair hair in stark contrast to the black shirt and pants which hugged his lithe form.  Unlike in competitions, Yuri’s hair was down, and the Kazakh noted the headphones on top of his head—drowning out the rest of the world.  He was probably oblivious to the lovesick school girls outside.

The brunette was pretty sure that his feelings for the Russian Ice Tiger went FAR beyond platonic…while most would wager that he stood dumbstruck out of a _skater’s admiration,_ he didn’t find it hard to determine why Yuri Plisetsky had so many fan girls.  He was like an exotic creature…well, a violent and overzealous one…but he was painstakingly beautiful.  Otabek sighed, this boy was gonna be the death of him…

The way Yuri moved, well that was bad enough…and apparently whatever was on his playlist, heavily influenced the fluidity of his skate.  He was seriously, only Otabek’s rival on the ice.  His only rival for pursuing the Russian, was himself…and not wanting to mess up a good thing…

NNN

The second time, had included Yuri’s entire team.  Georgi, Mila and the little punk apparently practiced quite differently when Yakov and Lilia weren’t around.  Their choice in music was just a little different too…if the repeated obscenity was a dead giveaway.  

Ringing out from the portable speaker system attached to one of their phones,

_“F You, F You, F You very very much…’cause we hate what you do and we hate your whole crew, so please don’t stay in touch.”_

“Yuri, do your signature move!” laughed Mila.

Yuri did a quad toe loop with both arms raised, and extending each middle finger.

“Amazing! Yuri Plisetsky, raised both arms with the jump, earning higher marks for a greater degree of difficulty!” announced Georgi.  He glided past the blonde, with an arabesque and smirked, “Yuratchka…what do you think of JJ?”

Yuri looked instantly annoyed, increasing his speed and landing a quad with the remark, “That shithead!  I’ll kick his ass this season!”

Otabek was torn between sighing or snickering…this boy was really something.

“What the hell are you three doing?!” roared Yakov, obviously not expected back so soon. 

All three looked sheepish, skating off in opposite directions as he violently turned the obscene song off. 

“Which one of you put this on?!” he barked, glowering at the trio.

The brown eyed boy sweatdropped from the sidelines…

Georgi pointed toward Yuri (who glared daggers), Mila pointed at Georgi (who feigned innocence), and Yuri was fingering the blame on Mila (as she puffed out her cheeks).

NNN

Now the third time was planned.  The brunette had a new playlist he wanted to share with his favorite blonde.  They had planned to meet and grab lunch.  The tiger’s roar reverberated down the corridor as he entered.

“Look, you bastard!  I am supposed to have this weekend off!”

Yakov was fuming, the sparks flying between the older man and the teenage rebel.

“It’s close to competition!  You need to be at your best!”

“I already _am_ at my fucking best, you—

“Yuri Plisetsky!” came Lilia’s curt response, “Don’t use unattractive words!”

Yuri sucked in a breath, his cheeks puffing out in response.

“Why don’t you just give him a challenge, Yakov?” suggested Mila, with a shrug. “Yuri wins, you give him the weekend off.”

Obviously in favor of Mila’s idea, “I’ll handle any shitty challenge you give me!” exclaimed the boisterous teen, a confident smirk on his face.

Lilia cleared her throat. 

Yuri sighed, hands in his team jacket pockets, “I mean, bring it…”

Yakov appeared to be seriously considering the offer.  Mila and Georgi blurted out their fun filled ideas.

A few seconds later one of Yuri’s infamous, _HUH?!’s_ rang out. 

“You want me to do _what_?!”

“Skate to Georgi’s short program and I will give you the weekend of.”

Their coach looked smug, knowing he had won.  There was no way that the little tiger would ever agree to this challenge.  Little did he know, the power of friendship was going to come and bite him in the ass.

“Georgi, get your ass out here!”

Everyone nearly fell over at Yuri’s outburst, watching as he quickly took off his jacket and threw it over the divider. 

“I’m hungry and I got shit to do!”

5 minutes later…

Georgi was crying.  “That was beautiful.”

Yeah…it was something alright…but at least he had won himself the weekend off.  Besides, the look on the old man’s face, that was priceless. 

“Yuri Plisetsky,” stated Lilia, watching as the teen retrieved his jacket. “See you on Monday.”

The teen blinked…she looked, proud?  “Aa…see you Monday.”

NNN

The Kazakh waited outside until his companion was ready.  Upon his reemergence, Yuri complained, “My teammates are so friggin annoying. You’re lucky you don’t have to put up with their shit.”

He wore his usual attire of skinny jeans and hoodie, with his cheetah print sneakers, hair down—sadly blocking one of those amazingly green eyes from view.

The stoic teen wore his typical leather jacket, black jeans, and a gray sweater—his sunglasses placed in his pocket—never on his head, as being compared to scum is not cool.

“So you got the weekend off, right?”

Yuri looked up with a grin, “Damn right, I did.  So what do you want to do today?”

_‘Spend the entire day close to you, of course,’_ thought the brunette.

“I have a new playlist I thought you might be interested in over lunch?” offered Otabek, with a casual shrug, pushing himself from the wall his back had been occupying.

“Sweet,” replied the tiger, quickly scrolling through his phone. “…Friggin Viktor and Katsudon share the weirdest shit with me on social media…” he mumbled absentmindedly before giving his best friend his full attention.

If it weren’t for the obvious age gap between Yuri and the two men, the _cool teen_ might have felt threatened when it came to obtaining Yuri Plisetsky’s attention.

“I’m starved, where do you want to eat?”

The Russian’s voice had interrupted his train of thought and Otabek often wished that Yuri’s eyes weren’t so green and full of emotion.  This made it so much harder to be casual around him.

“Do you want to eat at the mall?” he suggested, “Do some shopping after?”

“Aa,” replied Yuri with a slight nod, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The mall hadn’t been a far walk from the rink, luckily since the late fall weather was growing quite cool…and even more so, because none of _Yuri’s Angels_ had been within their radar.

They now occupied a window seat table on the second floor of the food court with an assortment of foods: pirozhki, borscht and stroganoff to name a few.

The brunette felt that his blond companion was only truly happy in the presence of cats, his grandfather and food.  Some little—er—growing part of Otabek hoped that Yuri would one day add him to that list. 

He had transferred his playlist to the blonde’s phone while eating.  Now the Russian sat sideways in his chair, back to the window, knees bent and feet occupying the vacant chair beside him at the table.  Yuri held his phone in hand, with one ear bud in, the other he had handed to the Kazakh so they could listen together. 

Otabek rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the table, which narrowly separated him from the object of his affection.  He liked how Yuri’s green eyes would widen at a song he enjoyed, or how he would grin and tell Otabek his thoughts about the mix. 

Everything was going so well until he saw two familiar figures standing outside the window and waving upward toward them.  He took the headphone from his ear and instinctively stood up.

“Otabek?” questioned Yuri, tilting his head to the side to follow his friend’s line of vision.

Yuri was always happy to have eaten before laying eyes on those two idiots—who just so happened to be out holiday shopping, on the same day he and Otabek had made plans.

“Don’t wave to them…” grumbled the Russian, with a look of annoyance plastered on his face, “You’ll only encourage them to come inside.”

The Kazakh had not been raised to rudely ignore people…but then again, he hadn’t been raised to pass up an opportunity with a hot tempered tiger either. He quietly resumed his seat.

3…2…1…

“…They’re coming in…” flatly stated the brunette.

“Tch!” grounded out the blond, “Of _course_ they are…”

Yuri shoved his phone in his pocket, “I’m not dealing with the pig or the geezer today,” he remarked.  He quickly sprang from his seat, glancing behind them to see Viktor’s striking hair color sticking out in amongst the crowd. 

“C’mon!” he declared, grabbing hold of his best friend’s hand. “This is _our_ bastard free day!”

The Kazakh only had time to grab his jacket of the back of his seat as the Russian pulled him along.  He really hoped he wasn’t blushing as his fingers tightened around Yuri’s hand.  He noted that the blonde was definitely stronger than he looked.

Hoodie up, head tilted down, as though he were a pro at dodging annoying people, Yuri pulled Otabek in and out and around the mass of holiday shoppers. 

5 minutes later…

The normally stoic teen watched as the tiger cautiously peeked around a corner before deeming it safe.  Apparently, Yuri had acquired ninja level skills having had so many encounters with his entourage.

“Sorry about that,” nonchalantly remarked the blonde, motioning to their clasped hands.  “I get used to flying solo when dealing with idiots.  I thought it might suck if we got separated.”

Oh, how the brown eyed boy hoped he still had an _indifferent façade_ …because internally, he was over the moon at holding Yuri Plisetsky’s hand.

“I think we’re good now…” came a voice invading Otabek’s happiness, “If you want to let go of my hand…I mean, I’m probably gonna need it eventually?”

Oh my God!  Those words just registered and he released the once captured hand! 

“You okay?” asked the Russian, arching an eyebrow in response.

“I’m good…” was the Kazakh’s slick reply.

“Yeah, not very cool, I know,” offered the green eyed teen with a smirk, “but I don’t see them anywhere so I’d say it worked.”

The rest of the day, Otabek secretly hoped that Viktor and Katsuki would run into them, just so he could feel Yuri’s hand in his once more.

NNN

Thank you for reading!


	4. Freeways and Fangirls and Fear, Oh My!

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**Freeways and Fangirls and Fear, Oh My!**

NNN

Viktor had texted Yuri asking if he wanted a ride to the rink.  He had already walked to the hotel Otabek was staying at and was standing in the lobby at the time of the text.

“You want Viktor to give us a ride to practice?”

Otabek really wished he could take back his acceptance of the offer…maybe things would have turned out a little differently that morning?

For starters…

  1. Viktor wasn’t the one driving, it was Katsuki. Now, he was either on his permit or had never driven in civilized society…the verdict was still out.
  2. The small back seat of Viktor’s convertible (occupied by him and Yuri) wasn’t the most comfortable…although he wasn’t minding the close proximity to his favorite punk.
  3. Said punk, looked rather perturbed, looking up from his phone every so often to judge Viktor. Viktor had been humming to Cheap Trick’s ‘ _I want you, to want me’_.  The blushing Viktor received from Katsudon made the blonde want to hurl.



“Don’t you have any music from this decade?” he irritably asked, while scrolling through his social media.

Well…that’s how the whole thing started. 

So here they were…Otabek watching as Yuri’s face paled in response to the chosen selection as it came through the convertible’s speakers.

_“Got a girl from the south side…”_

“God, this isn’t what I had in mind!” fumed the tiger in the backseat.

Katsuki had just entered the freeway as Viktor reclined his seat.

_“Now me and her go way back like Cadillac seats…”_

 “Aa!” exclaimed the irate blonde, “Put your fucking seat up!”

Otabek tried to remain stoic, hard to do, since Viktor was practically lounging in Yuri’s lap, with a big silly grin plastered on his face.

“Oh Yurio!  You need to learn to relax,” remarked the silver haired man in a singsong voice.

Since Yuri was doing an excellent job of protesting for the both of them, Otabek just sat quietly in his seat.

_“Body like a back road, driving with my eyes closed…”_

Both teens nearly popped out of their buckled seats with a start as Viktor covered Katsudon’s eyes in response to the lyrics on the radio.

“Oi!  Don’t cover his eyes, you shithead!” fumed the distressed punk from the backseat, kicking Viktor’s seat for emphasis.

After that, things seemed to settle for a moment.  The Kazakh was really reconsidering having taken a ride, over public transportation, this morning. 

The blonde looked up from his phone, as something seemed to catch his attention…

Otabek blinked, looking at Yuri’s wide eyes and gaping mouth as he stared past him…making the brunette _not_ want to look.  However, like in any bad horror movie, and since he seemed to be predisposed for being a glutton for punishment…he looked…

_“We’re out in the boondocks, with the breeze and the birds…”_

Yeah, not quite! 

Try flying on the freeway, with the wind in your hair, dangerously close to the van over there!

The normally stoic teen sweatdropped, he was pretty sure that he could touch the van if he wanted to.

_“On the highway to heaven…”_

Pretty sure this wasn’t heaven.

Before Yuri could get the breath in his lungs to berate Katsudon for his hellish driving, teenage faces popped up, in the van windows seemingly from out of nowhere. 

The blonde nearly threw his phone out of the car, as he and Otabek jumped in response, (arms raised in the air, whiplash from the lap belts that kept them grounded), to the frightening faces pressed up against the glass.  The girls breath created steam patches, (from their pressed mouths and noses), in the process against the car’s cool windows. 

_“Headed south of her smile…”_

Viktor, seeing phones in their hands, and one to never disappoint fans, announced, “Say cheese!!!”

Otabek was just too shook to do anything at the moment.  He was pretty sure that Yuri was going to have heart failure or unbuckle himself and jump from the car at any moment, leaving the Kazakh without having confessed his love for the Russian tiger!

“Pay attention to the road, Katsudon!”  reprimanded the tiger, squirming around in his buckled seat, his hands on his head in frustration.

At his outburst, Katsuki swerved into the other lane with a jolt to the car.

_“Get there when we get there, every inch is a mile...”_

Just like when you ride on one of those terrible amusement park rides, (you know, the ones that only offer a lap bar), and then proceeds to use the force of gravity against you…

**SLAM**

Yuri slammed into the side door of the car, the impact strengthened by the added weight of Otabek’s torso.

It had all happened so fast!!! 

The brown eyed boy wasn’t sure whether to apologize or blush in response to having tackled his best friend.

“I’m gonna die before I get my next medal…” mumbled the dazed blonde, face pressed against the plexiglass of his door.

Otabek was thinking about how much he wanted to crawl in a hole, right about now…he reached out to straighten his dazed little tiger…

As for Viktor, well he might have been _feeling_ the lyrics…or _some_ -thing-er- _one_ in the front seat…

_“I’mma take it slow, just as fast as I can…”_

Katsuki, in response to his coach’s _affections_ accelerated at an alarming rate and swerved to the left lane.

Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t going down without a fight!  He held onto the inside handle of his car door for dear life!

“Oh dear,” came Viktor’s cheerful voice, “Yuri, you need to be in the next lane for our exit!”

The second swerve to the left, caused for the tiger to lose the battle, hands slipping from the handle of the door, as he slammed into Otabek’s side.

The Kazakh instinctively put an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

_“Body like a back road,_

_Drivin’ with my eyes closed…”_

Because seriously, if they were gonna die…Otabek wanted the last thing he touched to be Yuri Plisetsky.

_“I know every curve like the back of my hand…”_

NNN

I hope you smiled!  I pictured this while driving down the interstate when the song _“Body Like a Back Road”_ came on the radio.

 


	5. Flights and Fate

NNN

**Flight Cancellations and Fate**

NNN

Otabek was so close to being home, but the weather had stopped all flights, thus stranding him with thousands of other unhappy travelers.  Yuri was due back in Russia that same night and they had planned to Skype and chat about their recent qualifiers. 

It was bad enough that he and the Russian could only see each other at competitions, (when in the same bracket), or for a week here and there during vacations…now he wouldn’t be able to see the blonde online either.

He had fallen hard for Russia’s Ice Tiger…so hard that he couldn’t bring himself to confess.  Yuri Plisetsky was hard to read.  One minute, the Kazakh believed that the blonde was giving him an indication of his sexual orientation (ie: Welcome to the Madness—because seriously, do _friends_ go around biting off gloves?), then the next he was back to square one.  The tiger had a predisposition for anger not affection…

Otabek had found himself wandering the airport due to sheer boredom.  To make matters worse, some of his friends from back home had begun questioning him about the selfies Yuri had shared with him on social media.  Now there was two kinds of rules friends share:

Rule Number 1: When you comment about the guy your friend likes, you omit certain words from the conversation.  Even if Otabek hadn’t openly admitted that he liked Yuri…some of their innuendos hit a nerve.

Rule Number 2: One’s personal life is just that, _personal_.  Otabek had never been open about any of the guys he had dated, he wasn’t going to start now…even if he wasn’t dating Yuri…

Even if he were given the opportunity to date the Russian, how would their relationship change?  Right now, it was nothing more than a long distance relationship at best, but when they did meet up it was like they had never been apart.  Yuri was driven when it came to his career, friendship hadn’t interfered with their competitive rivalry.  He didn’t believe that dating would do anything to diminish that drive.  Again, the question: _Was Yuri Plisetsky gay or wasn’t he?_ entered his mind.  Maybe he was just emotionally challenged?  And if so, why?  Otabek hadn’t really begun to scratch that surface.

At least the airport had a lot of space: space equaled room for walking to ponder the facts of life.  The brunette blinked, stopping on the second story corridor.  Was his mind playing tricks on him?  He leaned over the rail of the glass partition overlooking the descending escalator.

There below him was a boy wearing a black hoodie, cheetah print jacket and a patch of blonde shielding his face from Otabek’s view.   The normally stoic teen found himself calling out, “Yuri?!”

He hopefully watched as his target removed an ear bud and looked around before continuing, “Yuri!  Up here!”

Green eyes had found the source of the voice from above.  Their eyes met and Otabek saw the blonde blink, then grin as it registered that they were both stranded in the same airport.  The Kazakh watched as Yuri effortlessly hopped the black divider, landing on the stairway between the two escalators and proceeded to run up the two flights of stairs.

If not for his normal stoicism, the brunette was pretty sure he’d have a stupid grin plastered on his face and be blushing…luckily for him, _stoic_ was his middle name.

He rounded the corner to find a bobbing head of hair coming into view as Yuri reached the final step of his journey.  If he were winded, the blonde didn’t show it, as he caught sight of Otabek with a grin.

Brown eyes widened as he caught the younger boy, who had launched himself—as though having been shot from a cannon—and was currently hugging him.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Words…for the love of God!  Words were failing Otabek Altin BADLY.  Yuri Plisetsky was hugging him and Oh. My. God. He. Was. Hugging. Him. Back. 

**(We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program for this public service announcement: Breathing is an essential requirement for life on Earth.  When holding one’s crush, one must remember to breathe.  We now return you to your show…)**

“Got…stranded…” he stammered…

Stammering: NOT COOL.

The Russian’s warmth was intoxicating…love drunk that was the condition.  Kids, don’t try this at home!

“Well shit,” remarked Yuri, pushing himself back to get a better look at his best friend. “I thought I’d be texting you later to tell you I wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, and you’re fucking here!  This is great!”

To Otabek, Yuri’s green eyes were pools of emotion, especially when he was excited.  The blonde teen wasn’t someone that he could just pick up at a club and forget a few days later.  There was no comparison in the older teen’s mind.    

“I arrived a few hours ago. My flight had to land here due to the storm,” informed Otabek, still stoically smitten in the presence of the object of his affection. 

“I still can’t believe this,” admitted, the content teen, “I thought I’d be bored as hell tonight, since Yakov took an earlier flight with Georgi to his next qualifier.”

Oh. My. God.  This was just too much!  He had Yuri Plisetsky all to himself!  Okay…so there were thousands of people in the airport, but to the Kazakh, it was like having won a lottery!

“Are you hungry?” he offered, trying to get out of his head for a bit.

Dumb question: the tiger was _always_ hungry. 

“I’m fucking starving…cheap shits only give you pretzels on the flight.” He had his phone in his hand, hoodie up, look of annoyance on his face.

“Want to go find something to eat?”

Did he really need to ask?

NNN

The airport was swamped due to the snow.  They had settled on some fast food and claimed a seat against one of the nearby walls.  Like always, they ordered an assortment of foods to share.  Teenagers could eat…especially boys…

“Congratulations on your win,” complimented Yuri, leaning forward for another dumpling from the pile of food.

Otabek smiled, “Your’s too…”

“Oh?” questioned the blonde, chewing the dumpling, with an arch of his eyebrow, “You saw it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed, taking another bite of his burger.

The tiger grinned, “Keeping tabs on the competition?”

“Something like that,” the normally indifferent teen had an unreadable expression, but the blonde let it go.

NNN

Otabek loved when Yuri relaxed because he would unconsciously lean against him while scrolling through his phone.  The floor became more comfortable with the Russian’s warmth against him.  They had taken some selfies, courtesy of Yuri, not Otabek, and already Viktor and Katsudon had chimed in on social media.  Spouting things like, the power of friendship, fate and some other bullshit, as far as, the Russian was concerned.

They had already talked about cats, skating and shitheads, and now they were listening to music (each with an ear bud in).  Otabek always shared new music with the blonde whenever given the opportunity.  Yuri inspired a lot of his recent playlists, it was only natural since music was an easier form of expression.

The tiger was either oblivious to the world around him or didn’t care, for Otabek noticed as members of both the male and female persuasion would take notice of him at different intervals.  Yuri tended to stick out, fashion sense aside, it was just his nature.  It’s why the Kazakh’s friends back home had mentioned his intentions with the Russian. 

“Damn, am I glad to be stuck with you and not that shithead JJ,” Yuri’s grumbling interrupted his thoughts for a moment, “Other than my grandpa, you’re like the only person I want to be around…”

Was it suddenly warmer in here???  Because Otabek was certain someone had turned on the heat.

“…Good to know, because it would awkward if you didn’t like being with me…us being best friends and all…” smoothly responded the brunette.

He gave a small smile, he could tell that Yuri was growing tired, shifting his weight before settling—resembling a restless kitten.  Truthfully, Otabek was fighting sleep from the qualifier, jet lag and the time change.

NNN

If Yuri thought that it was hard being surrounded by idiots most of the year due to his best friend living in another country, just imagine how Otabek felt?

He had recently turned 19 and he’d never been in love with his best friend before.  He worried about their friendship surviving, most of all he worried if Yuri would accept his love—would he leave a gaping hole in Otabek’s heart if he didn’t?

“What’s wrong?”

The Kazakh blinked, he had believed the Russian to have already succumbed to sleep.  He glanced sideways to find Yuri’s full attention on him.

“Are you sick from eating too much?”

His innocent question and quizzical expression, really tugged at Otabek’s heartstrings.

“I’m good,” informed the brown eyed teen.

“That shit happens to me when I eat too many pirozhkis,” he explained, “But Grandpa’s are always the best.”

Otabek could feel his eyes softening at his explanation.

“ _Otaya_ , you want me to go get you some ginger-ale?”

The green eyed teen looked so sincere.  This was a side of Yuri Plisetsky that very few people ever saw, and it made the older teen’s heart hammer inside of his chest.  Russians had a knack for assigning nicknames to people.  He just really loved that Yuri did it to his name.  Hell, he loved everything about the captivating blonde…but that’s how it was supposed to be, right? 

“Honest…” began the resigned teen, “my stomach is fine.”

Minus the butterflies Yuri had unknowingly brought on.

“Okay…” accepted the tiger, “Goodnight…”

“Goodnight, Yuri…”

NNN

They awoke in the morning with a woman’s voice on the intercom informing them that the travel ban had been lifted and flights would be resuming within the next few hours.

The stiffness in Otabek’s neck did not outweigh the feeling that seeing Yuri’s head resting on his shoulder produced. 

When they parted ways later that morning, with a ‘ _davai_ ’ and a thumbs up, Otabek watched as Yuri headed toward his terminal. 

Maybe next time he could bring himself to tell the tiger how he felt?

NNN

Thank you for reading!


	6. Pirozhkis, Popcorn and Shitty Movies

NNN

**Pirozhkis, Popcorn and Shitty Movies**

NNN

Otabek couldn’t help but think that Yuri was pretty lucky to have Lilia Baranovskaya as his instructor…as he stood outside of the swanky building.

He looked down at his phone, determining that the number on the door matched the information in the text message before ringing the doorbell.

Yeah, the blonde could do a lot worse, was his thought before the door opened and the imposing figure of the prima ballerina stood before him.  He was sure in that moment that more than a few grown men had cowered in her presence.

The staunch woman took one look at the stoic teen before her before calling back toward the kitchen, “Yuri Plisetsky, your company is here!”

Poor Otabek didn’t know if he should enter or wait to be invited as he remained motionless in the doorway with bag in hand.

“Don’t leave my kitchen a mess,” she coolly added, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Lilia took her coat from the rack, then looked at the Kazakh pointedly, “Are you coming or going?”

“Coming…hopefully?” was his unsure reply.

“Then do come in so I can go, as you are clearly blocking the doorway.”

NNN

After the door shut behind her, the brunette let out the air he had been holding in his lungs.  He began to size up the entry way…it was impressive with expensive furniture and art against its walls.

“Oi, Otabek,” came Yuri’s voice, “found it okay?”

Otabek turned his attention toward the kitchen to find the Russian wearing a red apron, his hair half pulled back, and an amazing smell wafting from the oven.

He made sure to remove his jacket and shoes before entering the inner sanctum. 

“Yeah, your directions were great,” he casually remarked.  Trying to rid his mind of how cute the tiger looked in an apron, standing in the kitchen.  Wonders never ceased to amaze him.

“Lilia’s on this friggin’ health food kick,” Yuri began, rolling his eyes at the thought, “if I see another protein shake I’m going to puke.”

The brown eyed teen took a seat on a stool at the kitchen bar, as the Russian talked about all of the other deemed _shitty_ foods he had been forced to consume within the last few weeks.

“Did you bring an overnight bag?”

“Aa,” replied his passive friend.  He rested his chin in his hand after propping his elbow on the counter, “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”

“Grandpa’s a great cook,” Yuri stated, as Otabek watched his emerald eyes light up at the mention of the elderly gentleman, “I had him teach me when I was younger.”

The older teen had wondered about a couple of things for a while now…but being permanently reserved made it hard to breech certain subjects.  Sure, at home he had friends, but they were more like the kind you associated with, hung out with, didn’t need great conversational skills when DJ’ing with.

Yuri was different, because he was someone the Kazakh was actively pursuing…even if he didn’t know if the Russian was attracted to guys or not. 

Friggin’ Yuri Plisetsky: pain in the ass—why yes, he would like a pirozhki hot out of the oven.  Thank you for asking—

Curses, yet another missed opportunity to ask him about his home life, family or other acquaintances!

NNN

Unbeknownst to Otabek, the blonde had never had a sleepover before.  He was certain that surely everyone had pirozhkis, popcorn and shitty movies as requirements for having a friend stay over.

Let’s face it…stalking Viktor to Japan and crashing at Katsudon’s parents resort, didn’t really qualify as a sleep over…or a good time…

When the Kazakh’s eyes widened after his first bite of pirozhki, and said how surprisingly good it was, he wouldn’t realize just how happy his best friend felt in that moment.

NNN

The fall days were much shorter, so when they started the movie, the room was already dimly lit. 

Well, for a shitty horror movie, both of the _cool_ teens, currently occupying the couch, seemed to be glued to the screen.

“Oh you stupid shit…” whispered Yuri, taking another bite of the pirozhki in hand, sitting cross legged.

Otabek intently watched the screen, mentally determining that the deemed _stupid shit_ on screen was indeed that. 

“Oh he’s fucking dead….” the blonde continued in no more than a whisper.

They watched as the character on screen proceeded to venture into the woods _alone_.

The brown eyed teen, nodded, while munching on a handful of popcorn from the bowl currently occupying his lap.

“What kind of shithead goes off into the woods alone when there’s a killer on the loose?” murmured the Russian, before looking at the Kazakh with a grin.

As if on cue both came to the same conclusion and stated,

“JJ…” before Yuri laughed out loud and Otabek chuckled.

 This was why they were best friends…

“We ever run into an axe wielding psychopath, you and I run out the back and leave JJ as the sacrificial lamb.”

“Deal.”

NNN

The music was giving that familiar, telltale sign that the killer was going to appear at any given moment.  Both teenagers had unconsciously leaned forward, with accompanying munching, out of sheer anticipation of this guy’s demise!

**POUNCE**

The teens screamed out in alarm as popcorn and pirozhki took flight!  However, it wasn’t the murderer from the screen, it was a confused looking Ragdoll, now standing on the couch cushion in between them.

Yuri climbed down from his newly acquired perch on the arm of the couch—popcorn crunching under his weight as he returned to the cushion—and Otabek tried to play 52 pickup with all of popcorn he had flung. 

“Potya!” exclaimed the Russian, “You fucking scared us!”

He halfheartedly chided Puma Tiger Scorpion, holding the cat up to get a good view of its unremorseful face, before setting the Ragdoll down. 

“Huh?” questioned the green eyed boy, “Where the hell is my pirozhki?” 

As if on cue, said pirozhki, fell from the ceiling, and Potya not missing this as an obvious sign from the gods, grabbed the treat and ran off with it.

Who said that Viktor and Katsudon had all the humorous moments?

NNN

After a cleanup, restock of snacks and a change into comfortable bedtime clothing had commenced,

Operation: _Shitty Movies_ was back on!

Yuri reentered the room with two cups of chai in hand, “Hold these?”

“Sure.”

Otabek obliged as he watched the blonde pull out a leopard print blanket from seemingly out of nowhere, before settling down on the nearby couch cushion.  Here’s where they were totally opposite of one another because there’s no way that the Kazakh would have ever been caught dead using a leopard print—

Oh look, Yuri was draping half of the blanket over Otabek, in a seemingly innocent manner before reclaiming his cup of chai from his best friend’s hand.

And this is why he seldom finished thoughts around Yuri Plisetsky: Russia’s _clueless_ Ice Tiger.

NNN

Otabek woke up to a blurry Netflix screen on the TV currently illuminating the living room.  He squinted, his eyes trying to adapt to the light of the room, and yawned.  The white digits of the TV’s clock read 2:34 A.M.

He turned to find Yuri curled up, head on the arm of the couch, hair shielding his face from view.   Otabek’s eyes softened, as he unconsciously leaned forward, his fingers tucking the strands of blonde behind the Russian’s ear. 

His hand froze...

“….”

…at the pair of iridescent eyes watching him with judgment…

If cats could judge, Otabek Altin was certain this one was.  The Ragdoll took its paw and was clearly trying to remove his hand from Yuri’s close proximity, as if saying,

_“Mine.  Get your own.”_

Otabek’s biggest rival _would be_ a cat.

NNN

Thanks for reading! 


	7. Well This Sure in Hell isn’t Romeo and Juliet

NNN

Well as far as Yuri Plisetsky was concerned, this hotel was getting a bad online rating…

_10 minutes earlier_

_He was going out to get breakfast before today’s practice with Otabek…or so he thought. Yeah, that was until his fan girl senses had started tingling and the Russian saw a shadow outside of his hotel room door.  Was that sniffing he heard?_

_Yuri hesitantly leaned forward to look through the peek hole of the door and damn near jumped and let out an obscenity at the sight of a very large eye peering in at him!_

“Yakov!  You need to do something about this,” angrily stated the blonde, phone in hand, sitting in the furthest corner from the door of his room.  That shitty coach of his was having breakfast with Lilia off site, while he was practically starving!  After hearing about how Yuri was _bothering_ him, and that he should call hotel security and handle his _own_ affairs, the irate blonde hung up and dialed the hotel.

“HUH?!”

_“Yes sir,” came the voice on the receiving end of the telephone, “we are VERY sorry but you see these girls have infiltrated the entire hotel…we’ve called the other international skaters and asked that they stay in their rooms until this matter is resolved.  We’re just at a loss on how to handle the situation; we hope to have the local authorities dispatched soon.”_

Whether it was the growling of his stomach or the one that erupted from his mouth, one couldn’t be sure.

“Tch!  Fucking, great!  I’m on the friggin’ top floor of this shitty hotel…”

He glared out the window and saw the balcony before him. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do, fly?”

Yuri blinked at what came into view.  Maybe he wouldn’t have to fly after all?

NNN

Otabek had just hung up the phone with the hotel receptionist.  He was kind of amazed that he could hear anything with all the screaming going on in the lobby where the call had been made.  He sighed, well breakfast with Yuri was off.

He returned to his bed, leaning up against the headboard and swiped his phone.  There were new messages from the other skaters.

**Phichit:** Fan girls everywhere!  It’s like the Huns have invaded China!

The Kazakh sighed, glancing at the pictures that the social media obsessed boy had gotten…perhaps through the peek hole of his hotel door?

**JJ:** Probably Yuri’s Angels…Yuri-chan is very popular after all...

**Katsuki:** I hope they didn’t find Yurio’s room right off.

**Chris:** His fans are known far and wide for their sense of smell and detective like resources…he’s probably barricaded himself in his bathroom.  

Otabek could feel a headache coming on as they continued…

**Phichit:** Do you think they can disarm hotel locks? 

**Katsuki:** Phichit-kun, don’t say such creepy things!

**Chris:** When people are overcome by such a powerful _eros_ …

**Katsuki:** Chris!!!!

…and the headache was continuing to grow….

In fact it was evolving to a great weight on his shoulders, as a cloud of disturbing thoughts had appeared.  Yuri, trapped in his hotel room with nothing more than a protein bar—that was scary enough.  However, Yuri holed up in a bathroom with only a hair dryer and some shower amenities to defend himself, while _eros filled_ women poured into his room…

**Phichit:** Who has Yurio’s cell phone number?

**Katsuki:** Yurio won’t answer me…

**JJ:** Oh, I know someone he’d answer…right, Otabek?

The joys of social media, everyone in your discussion could tell when a message had been viewed by all party members.  The brown eyed teen was certain, that even through text messages, he could still feel JJ’s smirk.

**Otabek:** I will text him…

NNN

Yuri was humming to himself at his good fortune.  He’d grabbed a backpack with necessities and left the room via the balcony.  His phone buzzed and he could see that it was Otabek.

**Otaya:** Are you still in your room?  I mean, _alone_ …since the hotel has been invaded?

**Yuri:** Not quite.  Hey, do you have any food in your room?

NNN

Now Otabek was thoroughly confused…

**Katsuki:** Is Yurio, alright? Viktor’s still asleep…

**Otabek:** Hang on. Texting him at the moment.

NNN

**Otaya:** I have food…why?

**Yuri:** You’re on the 10th floor right?

**Otaya:**  Yes…

**Yuri:** Your room is on the same side of the hotel as mine, right?

**Otaya:** Yes…

**Yuri:** And where would you say your room is situated best on that side?

**Otaya:** …..The middle….wait, why???

**Yuri:** Okay, good!  I’ll see you soon!

NNN

No there wasn’t anything definitely _good_ or concrete about that cryptic text message.

**Otabek:** I think Yuri managed to get out of his room.

**Phichit:** #ninjakitten, #tigersaresneaky

**JJ:** Yuri-chan is pretty small…

**Chris:** Perhaps he climbed through the ceiling duct in the bathroom after the _eros_ filled women entered his room?

**Katsuki:** (terrified emoji)

Otabek was suddenly having visions of Yuri climbing in the hotel air ducts…dropping in on him when he reached his floor and demanding food.

NNN

Heights had never bothered Yuri Plisetsky.  He’d climbed some trees as a kid, cats were his favorite animal and he’d flown numerous times for competition.  However, 25 stories was a bit high up, he observed, while overlooking the rail before him.

NNN

“Shit, this thing’s a piece of cake,” observed the Russian, using the control panel in his hand.  He’d already made it down one story, while humming, and the best part was no annoying fangirls.

NNN

**JJ:** Omg…I don’t think Yuri-chan’s in the air ducts…

**All:**???

**JJ:** I’m pretty sure I just saw him outside of my 20th floor window…

**Katsuki:** …Were you drinking with Viktor last night?

**Chris:** No. That was Viktor and myself.

**Phichit:** #Spider-man, #cat-astrophe, #Yurionwindow

**JJ:** I’m serious.  Blue jacket, black hoodie, undeniable patch of blonde hair, and boy did his eyes widen when whatever he was standing on let go.

**Katsuki:** OMG!  I’m waking Viktor!!!!

Otabek may or may not still be breathing…

NNN

Oh…floors 19-16 were a bit of a blur.  The feeling was similar to the bad stomach dropping amusement park ride that you begged to go on and later regretted.  Thank the gods that Yuri Plisetsky hadn’t eaten that morning.

His chest was currently puffed out like a startled cat, his knuckles white against the rail. 

Everything had been going fine until the damn button jammed and he found himself stuck outside of JJ’s hotel room…of all the godforsaken windows to be caught peeping into…

_Yuri swore at his luck…_

_“Of all the fucking windows to be stuck outside,” he growled, watching in disdain as JJ practiced his signature pose in front of his mirror._

_The Russian blanched, even through the window he could make out the smile that could blind the masses.  He was certain JJ must have a marketing contract with a tooth whitening company…no one’s teeth were THAT white._

_The irate teenager violently pressed the button of the control panel..._

_“C’mon, I don’t want to see this—_

_JJ appeared to be turning toward the window and Yuri’s current shitty dilemma…_

_“—SHIT!”_

_As the carriage obliged and proceeded to drop him…_

_…At an alarming rate…_

NNN

Otabek couldn’t keep up with the flurry of texts popping up on his phone.  His expression was grim and the only text message he wanted to see, was in response to the one he had sent, to Yuri…

NNN

Yuri had answered his phone and was currently standing in between floors 16 and 15.  His demeanor was quite ordinary, given the current situation. 

“I’m not exactly in my room,” he explained to his coach, “but I haven’t left the hotel either…”

Unbeknownst to him, wide eyed children were currently trying to get their parents attention…

“Mom!?  Mom, there’s some guy outside of our window!”

“How much sugar has daddy let you have this morning,” offhandedly remarked the mother, feigning interest from the other room.

“Mom!  I haven’t OD’d on sugar!”

NNN

**Phichit:** …Guys, I think JJ was right…

**All:**???

Otabek’s eyes widened as the enclosed photos appeared on his phone.

**Phichit:** These just appeared on social media!

#Guyoutsidemyhotelwindow

#MomthinksIhadtoomuchsugar

#Russianaroundmywindow

Only Yuri Plisetsky could be having a phone call conversation while standing nearly 200 feet in the air, with a look of indifference on his face.

NNN

_“Yuri?!  What the hell are you doing on that thing?!”_

The Russian Ice Tiger held the phone away from his ear…even with the wind and the traffic below, Yakov’s voice was heard loud and clear.

“…Oh…you found out?”

_“It’s all over social media!” his irate coach bellowed into the receiver._

NNN

**Chris:** What the young will do to escape such mature _eros._

**Katsuki:** Where did Yurio even get that?!

**Phichit:** Yurio has set the bar high with his selfies…

**JJ:** Technically, Yuri-chan didn’t take these but I do like his execution.

**Chris:** Not just anyone could ride around on a window washing carriage with such poise.

**Viktor:** AMAZING!

…Oh look, Katsuki was able to awaken Nikiforov…

**Phichit:** Isn’t it?!  I’m so jealous!

**Chris:** His youth is invigorating…gives me an idea, Viktor…

Otabek’s phone rang, just as Viktor and Chris were sharing ideas requiring a pole and black bikini bottoms…

“…Yuri?” asked the Kazakh with a rather incredulous tone, face rather glum.

_“Oi, come out to your balcony…” came the blonde’s voice from the other end._

The brunette, seemed to drag himself from the hotel bed as he hesitantly obliged, currently dreading what he might find.  He pushed back the sliding door and stepped out onto the balcony, blinking when he found nothing before him.

“Pretty fucking cool, right?” came a familiar voice.

The feeling of dread returned, as Otabek slowly looked up, his eyes widening in response.  There leaning over the rail of the rig, currently positioned diagonally above, was the Russian grinning like a Cheshire cat.

This was definitely _not_ Romeo and Juliet.  While Otabek—like Romeo—was shaken from the sight, he was certain Shakespeare had not envisioned Juliet to be so foulmouthed.

“I’m pretty sure they’re going to want this back,” observed the blonde with a look that indicated he was planning his next step.

The brunette didn’t have time to ponder this further, as Yuri took off his leopard print backpack and tossed it toward him. 

“Oh,” Yuri seemed pleased, “you caught that pretty easy…” there was a hint of approval in his voice.

Otabek’s world stood still, watching as Yuri climbed onto the side rail of the carriage. 

“This will make things a lot easier…”

Brown eyes widened as the frame swayed like a swing under the blonde’s weight…

“Yuri…wait…what are you—

The blonde hit a button on the control panel and tossed it behind him, as the carriage begin to ascend.  The normally stoic teen barely had time to process the situation as the impulsive blonde jumped from the carriage—resembling the animal he loved—with arms wide open and a mischievous grin on his face.

Because I guess having caught a backpack qualified as being able to _catch a person_ , in Yuri Plisetsky’s mind?

Otabek staggered in response to the incomprehensible situation. There only inches from his face was the enthusiastic blonde’s, with the emerald eyes of a soldier, his legs wrapped around the Kazahk’s waist.

The older teen was currently trying to function, as he held his crush.  Current status: shook!

Yuri seemed to be happy with his analysis, and announced with a grin, “I knew you’d catch me.” 

Thoughts were rapid firing through Otabek’s mind, such as:

_He’s so light…_

Not sure how Yuri was so light, considering he probably out ate Katsuki (during his offseason), on a daily basis.

_He’s so warm…_

No, maybe that was just his own body heat?

_He’s so close…_

To kiss him or not to kiss him that is the question? Wait, this wasn’t Shakespeare…

_What if I didn’t catch him?!_

_Why is he looking at me with those eyes?!_

_Must. Not. Blush._

_Must. Not. Overreact._

NNN

…2 minutes later…

“HUH?!”

Yuri Plisetsky swore that Otabek Altin had the worst timing to be an _upstanding citizen_.  The same thing had happened in Barcelona…because he was 15 at the time, Otabek had left him after saying that he was too young to go to clubs.

Now, at age 16, he was apparently too young to operate the window washing…whatever the hell it was…

“Oi, if I wanted a lecture,” grumbled the blonde, “I would have called Yakov again…”

Honestly, what the hell was Otabek’s problem?  Yuri had thought his entrance was seriously the fucking coolest and didn’t know why his best friend couldn’t share in his ingenuity?

Well screw this…

The Russian angrily retrieved his backpack and stormed toward the door.

“Yuri?” the older teen’s voice rang out.

“What?!” he haughtily replied, turning toward his best friend.  Emerald eyes blinked, as he caught the brown paper bag that had been tossed toward him.

Otabek sighed, his eyes softening, “You said you were hungry, right?”

“Huh?” questioned the tiger, slowly opening the bag in hand and his eyes glossing over at the sight of the pastries inside.  However, he looked at his friend suspiciously…

“You can have them if you stay…” offhandedly remarked the Kazakh, leaning against the beige colored wall in his hotel room, arms crossed over his chest.

“…Are you going to stop being an asshole?” Yuri asked, eyes narrowed toward Otabek.

Before the older teen had time to be offended or respond, the blonde added,

“Because I could go hangout with Katsudon or Viktor if I wanted to be annoyed.”

The chocolate eyed teen watched Yuri, as he spared a longing glance toward the bag’s contents.

“Although,” he informed, giving Otabek a sideways look, “I’d rather stay here.”

“Then stay…” he resigned, because that hopeful look in those ocean eyes, was just too much.

He hated awkward moments between them.  It wasn’t his fault that he had chosen the wrong course of action; the brunette couldn’t help but be protective over Yuri.  His eyes softened, watching as the blonde practically attacked the pastry in hand.  Poor kid was ravenous! 

NNN

They sat next to one another on the couch.  Yuri was just biting into his third pastry as his phone rang.

“привет, Виктор…” he grumbled in between bites and his eyes widened, as he damn near choked on the food in his mouth.

Otabek began to pat the younger teen’s back as he began to sputter.

“HUH?!”

NNN

Apparently Yuri’s Angels really _were_ everywhere for on social media there were images of Yuri jumping from the carriage, but no one could see _where_ he had landed, as the view had been obstructed.

Otabek was feeling rather grateful for that…as the image of Yuri with his legs wrapped around the Kazakh’s waist and being held on his balcony entered his mind.

He had to force down the blush that wanted to make its way to his face. 

Viktor Nikiforov seemed to be hysterical between fits of happiness and fits of sobbing to know that Yurio was safe.  They could hear Katsuki in the background, obviously phoning everyone that rumors of Yuri’s demise had been greatly exaggerated…

At this rate, they’d be lucky if they got out of the hotel by dinner…

NNN

Hope you enjoyed!


	8. It's Getting Harder and Harder to Breathe

NNN

It was the final qualifier and Otabek had just finished his routine landing him in first.  That left Yuri Plisetsky, even if he were to beat Otabek’s score, they were both guaranteed to advance into the European Championships in another month or so.

Otabek took a swig from his water bottle, watching the monitor _magically_ appear behind the press as they vacated to cover another skater.  The subtitles on the screen read,

_“Uh oh, trouble in paradise? Looks like the Russian team is having words...”_

_“It’s not uncommon,” interjected another commentator, “for skaters and their coaches to have disagreements on technique and jump lines before taking the ice.”_

The Kazakh’s eyes were fixated on the blonde as he shook his head at his coach.  Yuri seemed to look toward Lilia for some support.  She nodded, much to Yakov’s disapproval, and the teen took this as his cue before making his way toward the center of the ice.

_“Here’s Russia’s newest star.  His senior debut and win last year at the Grand Prix made history…”_

Yuri appeared to be moving slower than his usual pace and more tightly lipped than normal, as he took his starting pose.  His hair had been pulled back, his entire face on view for all spectators. 

Then the music began and the Russian took flight…

NNN

The brunette noted, yet another hellish step sequence, choreographed by Lilia Baranovskaya.  She never pulled any punches when it came to Yuri’s routines. 

_“Yuri Plisetsky’s combination spins are known for enthralling the audience…”_

_“His flexibility is truly remarkable, holding spirals and spins in a half-Biellmann position…”_

Otabek knew his coach would be calling him soon, but he continued to watch his best friend’s routine.  Yuri was a true performer, and someone who had inspired him since Yakov’s summer camp all those years ago.

_“Here comes the final planned jump…”_

_“Oh, he changed it to a triple at the last moment…”_

_“That will cost him gold in today’s final skate…”_

Yuri Plisetsky had missed his mark? 

The brown eyed teen barely had time to register that he had taken gold in this final qualifier, as his coach came up and slapped him on the shoulder in excitement.  Yet all excitement failed as the subtitles appearing on the screen caught his eye.

_“Plisetsky appears to be limping…”_

_“There’s definitely a noticeable limp…and his coach is eagerly waiting…”_

NNN

The press flocked to the gold medalist, yet all the stoic teen wanted was to see the continuing subtitles as they streaked across the barely visible screen…

_“….coach has called for a medic…”_

_“…motioning toward left foot…”_

NNN

It felt empty without Yuri next to him on the podium.  He’d learned from various sources that the Russian had been sent to the hospital for further examination, after obtaining the silver in today’s final.  Otabek had wasted no time showering and was towel drying his hair when his phone vibrated from the bench beside him.

Upon further examination, he found Katsuki’s name pop up on his phone.

**Katsuki:** Congratulations on your win.  Viktor thought you might like to know that he spoke to Yakov and got Yurio’s hospital room information.  If you want to see him?

Some people were prone to ask stupid questions…

Just as Otabek was responding to the first text message, a new text from Viktor appeared.

**Viktor:** As my Yuri said, congratulations on your win today.  _Your_ Yuri, fractured a bone in his left foot.

…The brunette winced from both the phrase, _your Yuri_ and knowing that he probably only secured gold because of an injury at the blonde’s expense…

NNN

The brown eyed teen entered the reception area and made his way toward the elevator, pushing the button and awaiting the cab to arrive.  Viktor had texted him Yuri’s room number, he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome, having beaten the blonde.  The Russian’s coaches could be a little intimidating…

NNN

He had expected noise…at least a few obscenities to have come from the doorway of the hospital room, but instead the brown eyed boy found a tight lipped Russian, sitting up in bed.  His foot had been elevated on a pillow in a preliminary brace.  The former prima, was speaking softly to him, leaning forward and rubbing the back of his head in a comforting manner.

Yakov damn near plowed Otabek over in his wake.  Upon recognizing him, probably as _the bastard who had beaten Yuratchka_ , he glared and then addressed Lilia in a gruff voice.

“I need to make a statement to the press. They won’t release Yuri’s win as _official_ until the toxicology results return.”

They both felt themselves under Lilia’s scrutiny as her steely eyes fell on them. 

“Yakov, how long does it take to get a toxicology result?” she huffed, making her way toward the doorway.  “You,” she announced, pointing at the Kazakh, “Go sit with him.”

The imposing woman gestured for Otabek to do what she said, as he obliged and entered the room.

“I am going to demand results…”

Yakov blanched, Lilia was a force to be reckoned with…

He could hear the older man telling his ex-wife to not be too hasty as they disappeared down the hallway.

NNN

Yuri looked paler than usual, was Otabek’s initial thought.  Pain had a way of doing that to people. 

His eyes softened, “How are you feeling?”

“…Like shit…” came a ground out reply.

Yup, if the brunette felt badly about claiming gold before, seeing the one he was in love with in pain, was even worse of a reminder.  He felt it best to hold out a peace offering inside of a white paper bag, and felt his heart sink, when Yuri shook his head.

Dear God, things were serious: Yuri Plisetsky had passed up food.

“Have they given you anything?” he stupidly asked, already knowing the answer.

“…No…” came his dejected response.

The figure skating codes of conduct, especially with doping were harsh.  Protocols had to be followed and toxicology results had to be issued before a skater could be given anything for an injury.  Yet, the Kazakh felt himself relating to Lilia’s annoyance since Yuri had been sitting there for nearly three hours with a fractured foot and no pain medication. 

His features softened, catching sight of how the Russian’s emerald orbs seemed to be swimming through a sea of unsaid emotions. 

_Shit.  Coming was a mistake…he doesn’t need me here…_

The older teen sighed, resigned to the fact that he was probably the last person Yuri wanted to see right now.  He carefully placed the bag down on the bedside table and turned to leave.

Otabek paused, feeling a hand grasp his own.  Emerald locked with golden brown when the brunette turned.

“Where are you going?”

Upon seeing his friend’s confused expression, he continued, “Lilia said to stay with me, right?”

The normally stoic teen merely nodded.

“Then fucking have a seat…”

Otabek sighed, because how was he supposed to refuse that offer?

NNN

The Kazakh thought that his best friend really was a soldier.  However, even soldiers fell sometimes.  That was the reality of the game they both loved.  Luckily the European competition wouldn’t begin for another month or so, but would Yuri be ready?

He sighed, knowing that Yuri would make himself _ready_ no matter the cost.

After a while of silence the Russian stated,

“Congratulations on your win.”

There wasn’t any ill will in his tone, but it still made Otabek feel uncomfortable.

“We’d probably be in different positions had you landed a quad.”

“Yeah, well…” accepted the blonde, “I felt my foot shift on that last jump…and getting Yakov to let me skate was all I could arrange.”

Before he could question Yuri further, they heard an angry female voice coming from the hallway.  Both teens grimaced at the familiar voice—Yuri thankful he wasn’t on the receiving end for once.

The Russian’s eyes widened in response to the phrase in his native tongue.

“What did she say?” whispered Otabek, afraid Lilia might walk in and hear him.

“She used some pretty _unattractive_ words…”

Karma was a bitch and so was Lilia Baranovskaya, when her prima, Yuri Plisetsky was involved.

NNN

A nurse appeared shortly after, face flushed with the staunch form of Lilia behind her.  Poor woman…

May God have mercy on her soul.

_10 Minutes Later_

The IV was in, a drip had been set up and no hospital staff member dared linger too close to the doorway of Yuri’s room in fear of making eye contact with the imposing woman.

It had been decided that Yuri would remain in the hospital overnight, following hospital procedure.  He’d waved Yakov and Lilia off, (mostly for his own sanity, but for the sake of all hospital staffers). 

“Yuri,” remarked his gruff coach, “call if you need anything.”

“Aa…got it…”

Otabek watched as nurses fled when Lilia arose from her seat. 

“Don’t stay up too late,” she advised, giving Otabek another glare. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

NNN

The Kazakh breathed a sigh of relief when they had left, leaving just him and his favorite blonde.

“Want to watch a shitty movie on TV?”

Otabek smiled, “Sure.”

It was a little known fact that hospitals didn’t have fine dining or comfortable furniture.  Perhaps it was a prerequisite? Get you out and back on your feet faster?  Or just do you in all together?

NNN

They had both grimaced, upon lifting the metal plate cover revealing what had been brought on the brown plastic tray. 

Questionable meat. Overcooked vegetables.  Undesirable green Jell-O like substance.

Yuri said he would pay Otabek to try it, while the Kazakh felt that maybe food poisoning was the Russian’s way of getting back at him for winning gold?

NNN

The older teen currently occupied a spot next to Yuri, who had commented that a bed was more comfortable than a wooden chair for shitty movie viewing.

Yuri was just thankful Otabek had brought something, because once the meds started to kick in, so had his stomach.

The brown eyed teen opened the white paper bag to reveal an assortment of breads and pastries.  He was pleased to see the color returning to the tiger’s face and that he was hungry. 

“Which one do you want?”

More like, _which one do you want to start with, before we polish off this bag_?

They were teenagers after all…

“That one,” replied the younger teen, after peering into the bag and pointing.

NNN

They had found the mother load of all low budget movies on TV before falling asleep in companionable silence.

Otabek awoke to a muted television, casting an eerie glow across the room.  He determined that one of the nurses had probably hit the volume sometime throughout the night.  The brunette felt a warmth against his side, eyes settling on its source and determining it to be a comfortably sleeping blonde.

Yuri Plisetsky would be the death of him.  Between his striking personality and his angelic looks when he slept, it was hard not to be drawn to him.  He wanted nothing more than to drag a hand across his face at his predicament.  Sometimes he felt that never having befriended the Russian might have saved him a lot of grief.  It was painful having to walk on eggshells due to the uncertainty of losing him completely.

Just to make sure that he was _really_ conflicted, Otabek just had to brush the wisps of golden hair that had escaped from their braids, and made sure his hand lingered, as he sighed.   

He had to be out of his mind or just a glutton for punishment?

And this is why he had always upheld his cardinal rule to not get too close to any of the skaters…okay, so half of that was because he was shy, but things had sure been easier that way.

Otabek had worked hard, hard enough for Yuri to notice him and accept him as a friend, but was that really good enough?

Could things really just stay this way? 

He squinted, looking toward the digital clock on the nightstand and noted that it was after midnight.  Luckily, he had an afternoon departure home.  Ever so carefully, as not jar his companion, he moved out of the bed.  Brown eyes softened, as he pulled the covers up around the one who unknowingly caused him such inner turmoil. 

Otabek quietly reached for his jacket draped across the room’s chair.  He would text Yuri later to check on him.

“…Otabek?”

A sleepy voice invaded his thoughts as he turned to find the blonde, groggy and obviously feeling the effects of medication after having been woken up. 

“Go back to sleep, Yuri,” whispered the older teen, jacket in hand, “I’ll call you later…”

Yuri squinted, trying to make out the time on the clock, in his drug like state, and mumbled,

“…What?”

Otabek couldn’t help but smile, watching as Yuri’s head turned and voice seemed to be muffled into the pillow. 

“…It’s late…you could…”

A small chuckle escaped from the brunette, seeing as Yuri’s face seemed to disappear into the offensive cotton pillow case.

Figuring he wasn’t getting out of the hospital without hearing the Russian’s words, he good naturedly leaned down, “Okay, try that again?”

Yuri turned and lifted his head, _“…I said…”_

And the world seemed to cease all movement for Otabek…

As their noses brushed, the Kazakh could feel the Russian’s warm breath inching across his lips…

Brown eyes widened in response…

_“…don’t go…”_

The normally stoic teen’s heart seemed to speed up inside of his chest…

Yuri always seemed to suffocate him with those eyes, _the eyes of a soldier_ , even as they remained half lidded.  

It was hard to breathe.  

“…If you run into a psycho,” murmured the tiger with a lazy grin, “…who will I talk to?”

In that moment, Otabek was certain that this situation was more _dangerous_ than any supposed late night psycho encounter on the street.

 “…I’ll stay…” came his heady response. 

The brunette quickly straightened and felt the blush etched onto his face, bringing a hand to his lips, as he discarded his jacket to the chair and removed his shoes before returning to the side of the bed.

In response to his weight causing the mattress to sink, Yuri instinctively turned toward him.  Otabek’s eyes softened, watching as the blonde’s hand, (eyes remaining closed), felt around for the covers, before pulling them up over both of them.

They lay quietly, positioned on their sides towards one another, as the Kazakh wondered, was this just an unrequited love?

It was harder to breathe at the thought of the tiger one day falling in love with someone…other than himself…

“Спасибо, _Otaya_.”

He was about to respond that Yuri needn’t thank him, but the words died before they left his lips, feeling the younger boy take hold of his hand, fingers lacing with his own.

Yuri’s hand was warm and sent an array of emotions coursing through the Kazakh...

Golden brown eyes kept their focus on the blonde’s peaceful face, as silence settled between them once more, their clasped hands the only thing between them.  Only when Otabek was certain that the Russian was asleep did he whisper,

_“…I’m in love with you, Yura…”_

NNN

If you enjoyed, please leave me a review! 


	9. Will You Remember Me?

NNN

Just another typical day at the rink…was that really so much to hope for?

Viktor and Katsudon were already warming up on the ice while Yuri leaned against the wall with his right leg extended. 

He was getting that nagging feeling, (the one when you’re scrolling through social media and you feel someone looking over your shoulder), and sighed,

“What do you want, Baba?”

He knew how these things panned out.  If he didn’t ask, she’d just stand there irritating him with her presence until he did.

“Yuri,” the red head nearly purred, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Better to just give in now, “What?”

He’d feign interest momentarily as he hit _like_ on a post that had appeared on his timeline.

Her question had the blonde nearly dropping his phone, as emerald eyes widened, “HUH?!”

NNN

“You want me to _what_?”

“You could just ask _him_ for me,” Mila cooed with a dreamy look appearing in her blue eyes.

“Did you run out of hockey players, Baba?” teased Yuri, with the arch of an eyebrow.

“If you could just _ask him_ for me,” she reiterated, “I would leave you alone; let’s say, for an entire week.”

Well, shit.  This was just too good of an offer to pass up.  Oh, look who just so happened to be skating toward them?

“Oi, Otabek?!”

The Kazakh turned toward them, upon hearing the tiger’s bellow.  Yuri leaned over the wall, looking quite anxious to get a week off.  Mila’s face, however, resembled a deer in the headlights. 

Perhaps she had forgotten that Yuri Plisetsky’s social skill status was relatively a **zero**?

“Baba wants to know if you want to go on a—

Otabek blinked, Yuri now off the floor and being held above his teammate’s head.

“What the hell?!” fumed the captive boy, as his arms and legs flailed, “I was just doing what you fucking asked!”

Mila laughed nervously, “Not in front of e _veryone_ …”

Before the brunette could work out what was happening, an angry voice rang out,

“You two!  Stop screwing around!  Mila, put him down!  Yuri, get out there and do your warm up laps!”

Yakov continued to grumble about being a glorified babysitter as Yuri was released and grabbed his skates.

NNN

The blonde exited the locker room and headed down the hallway, earbuds in and phone in hand, as music drowned out the world.  He blinked as the security guard, standing behind the front desk at the end of the corridor, came into view. 

Said, security guard, appeared to be gesturing frantically at him. 

Yuri’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, just what the hell was going on?

It was like some bad pantomime up ahead, as the guard held his arms out with palms forward, as if saying _Go Back!_

The Russian removed one of his earbuds, leaning forward and shrugged with his palms upward in confusion.  The guard slapped his forehead and rubbed the nape of his neck in frustration, before holding up his index finger.

The emerald eyed teen, waited patiently as the man appeared to be scribbling something before holding up a sign…

His mouth opened and his hunched shoulders began to shake as the words came into his line of vision….

**SIDE DOOR DIDN’T LATCH! RUN!**

NNN

Otabek had returned to the rink side to wait for his best friend.  It was kind of their thing, practice, work up an appetite, ditch everyone and get food.  So why was Yuri’s teammate there waiting for him?

“…So, I was thinking,” continued Mila with a smile, “of maybe checking out this new club…”

In reality, Otabek’s social skills were probably only a few points above Yuri’s; however, conversational skills weren’t his forte.

He realized he’d missed something in between her next sentence, “…would you like to go with—

The sound of running feet and the impact of the crash bar on the metal door as it flew open caused both teens to gape at the disheveled blonde, with his chest heaving as he leaned against the double doors as if barricading them from some unknown enemy.

“Yuri, what are you doing?” questioned Mila, hands on her hips and a hint of annoyance on her features, as her plans had gone awry.    

The emerald eyed boy resembled a cat, peering out toward a seemingly harmless corridor.  He suddenly gasped before slumping down, his back flat against the front of the door and brought his index finger to his lips.

The brunette’s eyes never left Yuri’s face…this kid was more entertaining than a standup comedian…

“Yuri?” huffed his red haired teammate, “What are you—

Yet she nearly jumped as several female faces appeared, (each sporting cats ears on their heads), pressed against the glass of the double doors.  The scene resembled children ogling over the latest toy inside of a store front window.  How did they fit so many in such a small space?

The Kazakh’s brown eyes spoke volumes, _Don’t Move.  Hell, don’t even breathe, Yuri._

Luckily for Yuri, being so many of them, managed to obscure him from their view. 

NNN

When the footfalls seemed to be going, the blonde sighed and dislodged himself from the door frame. 

“What happened?” questioned Otabek with a sigh, offering at hand to the blonde.

“Someone didn’t latch the damn door,” grumbled Yuri, taking the hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.  His blue hoodie and patch of gold, shielding most of his face and the annoyance from view. 

The younger teen took in the sight of a pouting red head and couldn’t help but grin, as he leaned forward.

“What? He turn you down, Baba?” came his taunting voice.

Otabek wasn’t really following their conversation, as he tried to remain impartial to the entire thing, just something outside of the door caught his attention.

“I didn’t even get to ask him,” angrily whispered the female, her arm wrapped around Yuri’s neck.  “ _Someone_ had to come crashing through.”

“Well _excuse_ me,” replied the blonde with just as much loathing, “I probably spared you the embarrassment.”

“Uh…Yuri?” interjected his best friend.

“Yeah?” questioned the emerald eyed teen, looking up from Mila’s chokehold.

Otabek politely pointed behind them…and the swarm of women emerging behind the doors.

“Oh shit,” ground out the object of _their_ affection.

Mila smiled like the cat who ate the canary, blue eyes shimmering, “You better run, Yuri.  I’ll keep Otabek company.”

NNN

“You hold them off, Baba,” announced the blonde, strategically placing her in the path of the _eros filled_ women.

“Yuri!?” exclaimed Mila, throwing her arms up in exasperation, and giving a squeak as the doors opened to a sea of hormonal teens.

The Kazakh felt his right hand be seized, as the younger teen quickly pulled him forward with a grin.

“C’mon!”

NNN

Yuri could run pretty fast, thankfully so could Otabek, once he found his footing and recovered his wits.  This wasn’t his first hand holding experience with the Russian Ice Tiger, and while, it always seemed it occurred when they were _dodging_ dummies or _fleeing_ fans, the Kazakh hoped it wouldn’t be their last. 

He strengthened his grasp on the hand that connected him to the one he loved and felt rewarded when Yuri shifted his hand, lacing their fingers together.

Golden brown met emerald as their smiles seemed to reach their eyes—partners in crime, on another whirlwind adventure. 

NNN

Well they were officially surrounded…

Yuri peered around a corner, back flush with the wall and Otabek standing closely behind him. 

Yeah, Otabek would _have to_ fall for the guy who had an entourage of rabid fans, who relentlessly pursued Yuri, with as much earnest as the Kazakh.  

Well as Shakespeare stated, _‘The course of true love never did run smooth’._

The blonde pulled back and looked very serious in his assessment.

“Okay, from how I see it, we’ve got 3 options here.”

Otabek was all ears, his stoic face said, _lay it on me._

Yuri held up his index finger, “One: You can leave me and save yourself…”

“It’s your turn to buy dinner,” came his smart ass response.

Emerald eyes shone with amusement as he hummed, “Point taken.”

The brunette stood with his arms crossed, back against the wall, “Option number two?”

He was almost afraid to ask, since Yuri’s last _escapade_ had him 20 stories in the air outside of a hotel…

The blonde pointed upward, to which brown eyes followed and he raised his eyebrows.

“We can crawl through the air duct?” he offered with a shrug. 

Female voices seemed to be echoing from both the left and the right of the **T** in the hallway where they found themselves stuck. 

“Do I even want to know what option number three is?” mumbled the Kazakh, shaking his head in the process.

“Probably not…”

NNN

Yuri Plisetsky was stronger than he looked.  Luckily he and Otabek were only a couple inches apart in height, not to mention he had legs strong enough to upend two grown men on a kiss and cry bench. 

This was no biggie…

“Go!” frantically whispered the blonde, as he pushed his best friend up into the square shaped hole in the ceiling above their heads.

Otabek still couldn’t believe he was doing this, as he crawled into the hole with what little dignity he had left.  He quickly leaned down before extending his arm.   

_“Yuratchka?!  Yuratchka, where are you?!”_ their anxious voices indicated that they would be on them like a pack of dogs momentarily.

Yuri blanched and then jumped, as his hand reached for Otabek’s.  The older teen grasped his best friend’s tightly and pulled the blonde up.  The Russian quickly crawled in as the two fumbled to cover the opening with the metal grate. 

There wasn’t much room in the crawl space, as they both lay on their stomachs with chins resting on folded arms, safely above the masses.

Yuri was thankful he wasn’t stuck in such tight quarters with the Japanese Piggy; while Otabek, was appreciative not to be stuck in the vent with Phichit, who would have used hashtags like #ceilingfan , #sittingducts , #dontlookup. 

Warm breath lingered on the Kazakh’s ear as his companion turned his head and whispered, “This is like that scene in _Jurassic Park_ , where they are crawling through the vents and the raptors are below.”

Otabek’s nose crinkled as he tried to stifle a chuckle. 

Because you know what?  It really was.

Yuri rolled his eyes, watching as the girls continued to call his name out in vain.

“You know,” whispered the brunette, “I wouldn’t do this for just _anyone_.”

“I sure as hell hope not,” murmured the blonde with a grin, “I would question your sanity.”

“I’m questioning it now,” stoically responded his companion.

“I could have left you with Baba,” offhandedly remarked the Russian.

Otabek arched an eyebrow, recalling that odd interaction from earlier.  “What was that all about anyways?”

Yuri turned his head, resting his cheek on his folded arms and found that the brunette had assumed a similar position. 

He arched a golden eyebrow as he answered, “She wanted me to ask if you’d go on a date with her.”

Brown eyes widened as they searched ocean irises in surprise. 

“Right?” questioned Yuri in response to his friend’s expression, with a tone of disgust, “She ran out of hockey players or something, so now she has to go after _my_ friend.”

Otabek sighed, “I’m not interested in her…”

“I know,” quickly responded the blonde at his side.

He gave Yuri an assessing gaze, “You do?”

“Of course,” he calmly affirmed, unknowingly making his companion feel defenseless to his piercing emerald orbs, “You wouldn’t date someone that you had nothing in common with.”

Seeing the brunette nod in agreement, Yuri continued, “You need someone who is cool.  Someone who will listen to you—

“I don’t talk that much,” interjected Otabek with a smirk.

“You talk to me,” pointedly observed the Russian, as he heard the Kazakh make a small noise that suggested he was right, “Someone who likes the same music as you…”

_Someone like you…_

The older teen silently thought as Yuri described himself…

NNN

Otabek crawled from their hideout, placing both hands on the sides of the duct entry before lowering himself to the floor.  He was thankful to be out of the cramped space and stretched before his companion appeared.

Yuri must have had a tree house or something as a kid, because he had no problem climbing in or out of tight spots.  He sat at the opening of the vent, legs dangling as he leaned forward.

“Otabek, turn around,” he ordered, moving his hand in a circular gesture.

The Kazakh did as he was told and then staggered as the blonde jumped on his back, arms looping around his shoulders in the process. 

Brown orbs seemed to be anchored onto the younger teen as he was met with the wide grin and mischievous eyes of a tiger.

“Stay there, I’ll put the grate back on,” he stated and felt the brunette stabilizing his legs as he reached up and fixed their hidden entryway.

The older teen felt Yuri’s arms return around his shoulders and then heard a low, almost shy question,

“Uh, _Otaya_ …when you do find _someone_ , are you still going to have time for stuff like this?”

Otabek’s eyes softened as Yuri suddenly made sure to amend that statement,

“I mean…not climbing through air ducts and shit, but,” he paused for a moment and the Kazakh was sure Yuri was pursing his lips in thought, “Skype chats and dinners…and _me_?”

“ _Yura_ , I’m _always_ going to have time for you,” breathlessly replied Otabek, his heart hammering inside of his chest. 

“Honest?” came a hopeful response.

He fixed almond eyes with a sea of green and smiled, “Honest,” and Yuri looked content.

“…But at the moment, I want dinner,” continued the brunette, “and since you’re paying…I think I’m going to eat a lot.”

The blonde narrowed those emerald eyes, “Tch.”

“I did have to wait a few extra hours,” teased his best friend, “I might even eat more than you.”

“Ha,” boasted Yuri with a grin, “you can’t eat more than me!”

“You never know…”

Otabek wasn’t sure when he had started walking, but Yuri didn’t seem to mind being carried down the hallway as their playful banter continued…

NNN


	10. Highlights in Hasetsu – Part 1

Author’s Note:  We’ve made it to the 2 part drabble!  It’s pretty long too!

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season. Let’s hope for more YOI in 2018.

Please note that you need to have seen _Yuri on Stage - The Chihoko Drama_ in order for this to make sense.  If you haven’t, don’t despair!  You can do so on YouTube by copying and pasting the title I have provided in Italic.  A hilarious and inappropriate 22 minutes of your life with English Subs, will then commence.   

P.S. I did do a little astrology and found the results to be amusing in this story.

NNN

 

Otabek had answered his phone when the familiar name popped up on the screen. 

“Hey,” he answered, trying not to sound too affectionate.  Lately, any time he thought of the blonde, his heart would tend to speed up.

“Am I bothering you?” came the Russian’s voice, who was currently miles away.

“No. I was just getting lunch,” informed the Kazakh, as he grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer. 

“So something kind of happened a few weeks ago,” began Yuri with a hint of nervousness in his voice, “and I didn’t want you to see it online so I thought I had better tell you…”

Otabek chuckled, while spreading the condiments onto the bread.  Knowing his best friend, Yuri could have finally been pushed over the edge by his rabid fans or something that Viktor and Katsuki had done, or maybe he needed help burying a body—

“…I met someone…”

The knife clanged to the floor with as much subtlety as his emotions. 

“You alright?” came the startled reply from the younger teen.

“Yeah, sorry,” Otabek tried to keep his voice calm, it was a daunting task, “…was making lunch and dropped the knife…you were saying?”

His heart was painfully constricting within his chest, as he held the counter top with his free hand.  The brown eyed teen could feel the ragged breaths escaping from his lungs as his anxiety swelled.   

“So anyways, we’ve been out a few times and we seem to have a lot in common…” Yuri explained, oblivious to the inner turmoil he had produced in the Kazakh.

Otabek knew the reverberating of his pulse from the inside of his ears was causing him to lose track of the conversation. 

All he knew was one sickening fact, _I waited too long._

The noise soon escalated to a ringing…

NNN

Otabek sat up with a start to the ringing of his alarm clock.  The wave of nausea washed over him, as he hit the button on the clock and laid back, returning his head to the sweat soaked pillow. 

_It was just a dream…_

He dragged his hand across his face, his heart still pounding inside of his chest, as an after effect of the lucid imagery his mind had produced.

_I’m in love with Yuri Plisetsky…and I have to tell him…_

NNN

The Skype window started to connect on Otabek’s laptop as he waited to see his favorite blonde.

Well, it wasn’t the blonde before him, he soon realized…

Rather it was the Kazakh’s arch nemesis which the video depicted…

Potya sniffed the screen of Yuri’s laptop, the noise being picked up on the mic.  Then stopped, as if registering just _who_ was on the other side.  Again, if cats could smirk, Otabek was certain the Ragdoll could. 

Blue eyes seemed to narrow in judgment as if saying, _Oh great, it’s you…_

Leaving Otabek to wonder if Potya was the one who hit _accept_ on the call window, and if Yuri was even home?

When all hope seemed to be lost he heard shuffling as someone entered the room. 

“Potya,” came a familiar voice, with a tone of disbelief, “what am I going to do with you?”

Otabek watched as the cat was picked up and moved, and the blonde seemed to realize that his best friend was stoically viewing him from a connected chat window.

This caused Yuri to hold Potya up and toward him with a laugh.

“Were you talking to Otabek?”

_More like judging the hell out of me…_

The cat seemed to grin, butting its head affectionately against the Russian’s.  Yeah, Potya took no prisoners when it came to Yuri Plisetsky. 

NNN

The object of his affection now maintained a spot in front of the laptop’s camera, sitting cross legged on his bed, with a disinterested Ragdoll occupying his lap.  

“Hey,” Yuri greeted, watching as his friend’s stoic expression seemed to soften in response.

“How are you?” the Kazakh asked, comfortably seated in his desk chair. 

“Well, I am all packed and ready for my flight to Japan,” began the blonde, rubbing Potya’s chin in thought, “Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing since this is one of Viktor’s _lame as fuck_ events.”

The older teen merely winced in sympathy as Yuri continued,

“You’re still coming in a few days, right?”

The Russian sounded hopeful; it could be due to the fact that he wanted someone who wasn’t _certifiable_ to be joining him.

“Yeah,” confirmed Otabek with a smile, “my flight will arrive on Saturday.”

“Oh, you’re DJ’ing at a club at home, right?” enthusiastically questioned Yuri, emerald eyes shining a little brighter.

“A friend got me in at this club in Almaty.  I’m going to play some of the music I shared with you the other day.”

Most of their conversations were relaxed like this.  Their chats were the one thing that bridged the miles between them and both looked forward to this little bit of normalcy. 

“You’ll like Japan,” assessed the blonde.

_I’d like anywhere, with you…_

Yuri then listed the reasons behind his assessment…

NNN

Otabek’s phone rang as he was setting up the turntables at the club.  He still had an hour before the venue opened.  He pulled his phone out from his back pocket; it was unusual for Yuri to call, as texting was his usual mode of communication.

A sickening thought, as his mind went back to the dream he had from the other day, and he almost missed the call completely before hitting the accept button of his phone. 

“Yuri?”

“…Thank…God….” came the drained voice on the other end.

The Kazakh had the phone resting between his shoulder and ear as he hooked up a speaker cord.

“What’s wrong?”

He hadn’t realized that question would lead to the following discussion, as he nearly dropped the phone in the process…

Wait, Viktor had been missing?

_How the hell did he get lost?_   

Katsuki had been found with underwear on his head?

_‘…’_

Yuri had been put on trial for Viktor’s disappearance, after the names Otabek had helped Yuri come up with for his own skate show, had been publically announced. 

_Oh my god…I’ll never live this down…_

Fans had threatened to riot after Phichit posted _#ViktorwentMissing?_   to social media.

_Why I hate social media…_

…And Viktor had been found naked on top of a castle…

_That’s wrong on a number of levels…_

“I can’t wait for you to come and save me from this hell…” groaned Yuri in exasperation.

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon,” the brunette said reassuringly.  God, the poor kid had the worst luck when it came to drama. 

Hell, the current skating community had the antics of a glorified soap opera. It even aired internationally and could probably earn an Emmy Award.

Otabek looked up as his friends were making over exaggerated romantic gestures, bits of their whispered conversation entering his ears…

_“Oh, our dear Beks, talking to his Russian.”_

_“…Don’t forget he has the eyes of a soldier.”_

He tried to ignore them, but their snickers caused him to glare.  Why in hell did he ever mention Yuri to them anyways?

They had relentlessly teased him for the comment about the tiger’s eyes.

_“…Poor Beks, trying to catch a tiger by the tail…”_

His brain returned to the conversation in his ear.

“I’m going to go hide for the rest of the night, as their stupidity might be contagious.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Yura…”

_Shit._

His friends seemed to love that, as they began pantomiming kissing in response to the teen’s affectionate nickname. 

NNN

Golden brown eyes took in the sight of a blonde waiting at the baggage claim, his back currently occupying a wall.

It seemed that no matter where Yuri went, he always dawned a hoodie.  Today’s choice was the cheetah print one.  Otabek smiled, the kid could wear a trash bag and he’d probably still be drawn to him. 

Yuri smiled as he saw his best friend come into view.  If the Russian never changed, neither did the Kazakh, sporting a black leather jacket. 

The brunette thought back to his last conversation in Almaty…

_“Beks, if you like him, just tell him.  Why put yourself through all of this?”_

NNN

The chattering blonde walked along side of him, having offered to take Otabek’s backpack, and giving an update about hell at _Yu-topia_.  The Kazakh pulled the rolling suitcase along as they left the airport. 

It felt good to walk after such a long flight and Yuri had explained that you needn’t a car to get around in this town.  He should know, having stalked Viktor to Japan last year.

NNN

Being with the Russian was so easy.  The older teen never felt his expressions forced.  Yuri’s ocean orbs would shine when he was excited or poking fun at someone.  At the moment his eyes were swimming with admiration, after noticing that Otabek was wearing the tiger shirt he had given him for his birthday.  Yuri had unzipped his jacket to show that, yes, they were in deed a pair.

“You look so fucking cool…” 

The brunette was pretty certain that his dark complexion failed to cover the pink hue appearing on his cheeks.

He felt the younger teen’s arm around his shoulders as they posed in front of the statue outside of the station.  This would be the first of many selfies during the next two weeks.  

NNN

They had adorned yukatas and currently occupied a room with tatami mats lining the floor, low tables for eating and pillows to sit on. Well Yuri had raved about the pork cutlet bowl that Katsuki’s mother made and now it was the moment of truth.  Of course, eating would have been easier if:

  1. Viktor and Katsuki weren’t laughing like fools, as they occupied a small table, in the back of the room. There sure were a lot of empty bottles on that table, as Viktor sat with one arm around Katsuki and the other holding half a bottle upward in some kind of drunken salute. 



And

  1. Yuri wasn’t leaning against him awaiting the verdict.



It was the second time that day that Otabek’s stoicism failed to mask the blush etched on his cheeks, and it wasn’t because of how good the katsudon was either…

NNN

Viktor had another _lame as fuck_ idea.  Apparently, in one of his drunken stupors he thought up a good team bonding exercise. 

“Huh?” questioned Yuri, occupying a spot on the cushion next to Otabek, everyone having piled into the room for the impromptu meeting.

It was too damn early.  There hadn’t been enough food or caffeine in the blonde’s stomach and to top it off, he wasn’t exactly a morning person. 

The stoic teen sat next to him, trying to stifle the yawn that wanted to escape from his lips.  Leo and Guang apparently were the complete opposite of them, as they sat _bright eyed and bushy tailed_ on the other side of the table.

Phichit was already on social media, leaning in and taking selfies with Katsuki.  Georgi was lamenting over Anya in his cup of tea, as Chris ran his fingers through his hair—in what probably should not have been provocative, but nothing with Chris was ever that simple. 

Minami came bounding in running his mouth at an uncomfortable volume level in his excitement.

Katsuki, still feeling the effects from the previous night, tried to calm him, “Calm down, calm down…” he groaned.

“I’m just _so_ happy!” the younger boy exclaimed, “I can’t wait to go on an adventure with everyone and see what Viktor has planned for us!”

About the third time the words _so cool_ escaped his lips, Yuri shot up, with palms slamming on the table.

“Oi!  Shut up!”

Leo and Guang kind of wanted to sit at another table but since the Russian Ice Tiger’s wrath wasn’t pointed toward them they merely sat quietly.

Otabek, completely used to Yuri’s outbursts sat stoically as ever.  Leaving everyone in the room to question his sanity or think he was some sort of saint.

“God, you’re so fucking noisy,” grumbled the blonde, “who the hell are you again anyways?”

Minami gaped as he started to tear up.  “Don’t you remember? I told you the other day my name is Kenjirou Minami.  I’m your biggest rival from juniors!”

 “…Aa…” replied Yuri with a look of feigned remembrance. 

“His responses are so lukewarm…” chided Leo, arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s obviously forgotten again…” added Guang with a look of sympathy while Minami broke out into tears.

Yuri gave Otabek a shrug, at least it was quieter now.

NNN

So here they were, broken up into two teams after Viktor had been good enough to grace them with their presence.  Apparently they were going to go on a _scavenger hunt_ through Hasetsu.  They’d need to document the momentous occasion through pictures and the most creative team won.

Since the game was written in Russian, Yuri and Georgi had been elected team leaders.  It was determined that the teens would rival the adults. 

Yuri ripped open the sealed envelope, as Leo, Guang and Minami leaned forward in anticipation.  Otabek merely gave an inclination of his participation with the tilt of his head.

“Alright, so it says…” announced the blonde, speaking in English for the benefit of the team, “To my sexy pork cutlet bowl with the squishy tummy—

Fingers tightened around the paper until it started to shake within his grasp.  His teammates gave questionable looks in his direction.

“Oi, Viktor,” fumed the irate tiger, “this isn’t a scavenger hunt this is some disgusting love letter that you wrote to the Japanese Pig!  About poles and shrimp positioning!”

“Eeeew….” Leo and Guang simultaneously voiced their thoughts, “Adults are disgusting…”

“What else does it say?” wondered Minami with wide eyes.

 “Oh, that’s where that went!” came Viktor’s sing song voice as he shot a grin in their direction.

Otabek sighed, watching his distressed best friend, hold his head in his hands.

“My eyes!  Oh my god…I’ll never get this out of my head!”

NNN

Apparently astrology was popular or something in Japan?

At the moment Viktor was crying in excitement as Mari and Minako drew lines on a map covering the table.  Yuri’s face held boredom, as he and Otabek sat in the opposite corner of the room.  Remember, stupidity could be contagious.

“Wow,” exclaimed the revered skater, clapping his hands for emphasis.

Minako had joined them in a few rounds of alcohol and happily read, “Your star sign is known for originality.  You act rebelliously…”

The blonde muttered, “Like following some drunk you met at a banquet to Japan?”

Otabek merely sighed and sipped his tea, watching as Viktor’s eyes grew wider and he nodded in affirmation at every statement Minako made.

“You can make people feel uncomfortable at times…”

Yuri scoffed, resting his chin in his hand, elbow propped on the table. “At times?”

“Read my little Kobuta-chan’s next,” announced Viktor, hanging off Katsuki with a silly grin plastered on his face.

“Hmm…” pondered Minako, with an apologetic tone, “Well Yuuri…your star sign is known for being common, simple, plain…”

The younger Russian occupant in the room, had a wide grin currently plastered on his face.  Even the Kazakh had to agree, not really the opening for a motivational speech…

Katsuki’s head seemed to get lower with every word, “…have a hard time saying no…and when drinking, known as the person to _liven_ things up.”

If you thought the other two members in the room were getting off that easily, you were wrong…

Minako got a sly grin on her face, “And when are your birthdays?”

Yuri had made Otabek go first, reassuring him that no friend of his could have a lame star sign.

“Your star sign is known for being straight forward and clear-cut, you don’t hesitate or delay when there’s something you want…”

The blonde looked interested, recalling how they became friends in the first place.  Otabek was straight forward and direct. 

“They are prideful and love wholeheartedly…”

Otabek really wanted to crawl in a hole right about now, as he tried to stoically sip his tea..

“…and can lose their head in romance…”

…and tried not to sputter when he choked.  Emerald eyes seemed rather amused by Minako’s reading.   They seemed to taunt him as if saying, _Oh, am I going to have to watch you when you find someone?_

The brunette was happy when it was Yuri’s turn to have his star sign read. 

“Yurio, your star sign is known for possessing courage, confidence, and lack of fear through bold actions and words,” informed the Japanese woman.

“Wow that sure sounds like our Koneko-chan,” offered Viktor with a tipsy smile on his face.

“…They have a short temper and a wicked tongue…”

Viktor and Katsuki were snickering in their corner of the room. 

NNN

They had entered Ice Castle Hasetsu.  It still felt too damn early to Yuri as he made himself move toward the front desk.

A bubbly brunette with large chestnut eyes leaned over the counter and smiled.

“Good morning, Yurio!”

“…Aa…” came the Russian’s typical response. 

She looked between the two teens standing before her and Yuri took this as his cue, “Oh, Nishigori Yuuko, this is Otabek Altin.”

And then came the gushing of bodily fluids, as visions of last year’s exhibition skate entered her mind.

Otabek looked alarmed, while Yuri just smiled and spoke out the side of his mouth, “I think it’s a medical condition?”

“…Nice to meet you…” mumbled the Kazakh in confusion.

NNN

Yuri was tying the lacings of his skates, while occupying a bench, as he looked over at his companion.

“You didn’t have to come,” he calmly stated, gaging the brunette and his current demeanor.

“Its fine,” assured Otabek with a small smile.  He hadn’t wanted to miss spending time with the younger teen, but when he had awoken, something felt a little off.

“Yakov only lets me come on these _lame as fuck_ outings because Viktor promises to practice with me,” informs Yuri before standing up from the bench. 

He’s wearing his Bosco jacket, the familiar red, white and blue of his country hugs his lithe form.  Only in competition does the blonde bother to fully pull back his hair.  They hear the noise of skates scraping the ice as they make their way to the rink. 

Katsuki was leaning against the rink’s wall, seemingly tired but good natured as he smiled.

“Good morning, Otabek.  Yurio,” he greeted.

Otabek nodded and gave a small noise in greeting.

“Aa, Katsudon,” acknowledged Yuri, looking toward Viktor who was already on the ice. 

“Yurio, let’s warm up,” came Viktor’s sing song voice. 

Both Yuri and Katsuki were all too aware of how that would change the moment Viktor found something to critique.   The blonde entered the rink and began his warm up laps. 

Otabek leaned against the wall alongside of Katsuki in silence.  Both men watched their _own_ Russian on the ice.

“Viktor trains Yurio hard…” Katsuki observed, looking at the Kazakh with a small smile.

“Aa…it’s because Yuri’s got a lot of potential…” offered Otabek, he’d grabbed his track jacket before heading out with the blonde. 

Ice rinks were always cool, but since getting up this morning, he was feeling a bit colder than usual…

Katsuki hit the sound system a few minutes later, something about Viktor being more creative with music, even in warm ups. 

“What is this?” came a frustrated voice from the center of the rink.

“Chris recommended it,” came a cheerful response.

Apparently _Partying like a Russian, with Disco Seduction_ wasn’t a hit for 1 out of 2 Russians.

Golden brown eyes watched with intent as both Russians moved simultaneously in fluid movements.  Even in practice they carried an air that lesser skaters would find intimidating. 

Moving into the jumps, Viktor had poise and grace and the incomparable landings he was known for.  However, Yuri’s had their own solidity, he was more limber than his counterpart and seeing the pair simultaneously go into sit spins could easily put any of them to shame.

Katsuki spared Otabek an uneasy look, “We’re going up against them in a few months…”

_Thanks for the reassurance…_

“But we love them, right?” murmured the Japanese man, his eyes soft and gaze returned to the ice.

Otabek had almost found himself caught in a response, but thankfully his brain was still functioning.  He wondered if it had just been a slip of the tongue, or perhaps it was Katsuki’s English?  

The song hit its crescendo as Viktor gave a flawless Triple Axel, but it was the response of the blonde that had Otabek’s eyes widening, as he counted the number of rotations, holding his breath until Yuri landed the Quad Flip.

Katsuki gripped the side of the wall with a broad smile, “…Yurio…”

The look of triumph on the younger teen’s face was short lived as Viktor spun him around with great enthusiasm.

Otabek wholeheartedly believed that Yuri Plisetsky would surpass Viktor Nikiforov.  

NNN

“Otabek?” questioned the blonde at his side.  Hands in his pockets and a look of annoyance on his features.  “When were you going to tell me that you’re not feeling well?”

The brunette felt his companion’s steely glare on him, before he could respond, Yuri added,

“Before or after you passed out?”

He sighed, he really hadn’t thought he’d feel this lightheaded…or cold…he felt the back of Yuri’s hand on his forehead.

“Tch,” the Russian ground out, “You’re burning up.”

They’d stopped to sit, well Otabek had sat, on the bench alongside of the bridge on their way back to _Yu-Topia_. 

There was something in Yuri’s emerald eyes that told him not to argue, when the hand had been offered to him, he took it.  The Russian often got the nickname _fairy_ , due to his features, but anyone could see that Yuri Plisetsky was really a soldier.  He was stronger than he looked, as he draped the Kazakh’s arm around his shoulders, and supported him with an arm around Otabek’s waist.

“Alright,” he announced, more to his own benefit, “I’ve got your back.”

_…And my heart…_

NNN

Good to his word, the blonde had set to work as soon as Otabek had changed.  Luckily for them, no one wanted to room with the Russian Tiger, and Yuri wouldn’t have allowed for anyone other than his best friend to share his quarters anyways. 

Otabek was now covered nearly from head to toe in a tiger print blanket, and feeling too weak by this point to see the hilarity of the situation.  Yuri crouched before him, holding out an opened bottle of water and two aspirin.

“Take these, okay?”

If the Kazakh wasn’t feeling so lightheaded, he might have noticed how caring those ocean orbs looked.  He sighed and obliged, while Yuri pursed his lips. 

He’d taken care of his grandfather a number of times as a kid.  Winter weather in Russia was brutal.  He placed the back of his hand against Otabek’s forehead and scowled. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he announced, not sure if he was heard or not. 

NNN

Katsuki’s mother was happy to oblige.

“I’m sorry your friend isn’t well,” she explained in English.

“Aa…thank you,” replied the teen, as she helped him locate the loose leaf tea and strainer.

NNN

Yuri returned to the room with tea tray in hand and slid the door closed with his foot. 

“Okay…” he winced as he took in the sight of his best friend.

He sat down in front of him and set down the tray. 

“ _Otaya_ , I’ve got some tea and it’s got medicine in it.”

The Russian pulled his hair back into a pony tail, with the sides resting against his cheeks.  For comfort sake, he had removed his arms from the top half of the yukata, wearing a short sleeved black shirt with a tiger on the front.   

Otabek felt disoriented, but touched the cup placed in his palm, and noted the warm fingers wrapping his hand around the cup. 

“Just sip it,” advised the Russian with the eyes of a soldier, “it’s going to be strong.”

Even in a stupor, the brunette couldn’t refuse him.  He slowly brought the cup to his lips and his eyes widened when the liquid reached his pallet. 

“In Russia, _vodka_ is medicine…” Yuri explained with a smirk, “my grandfather snores so bad when he’s sick, I make his tea extra strong.  I went easy on you.”

Otabek blinked, “Where’d you get vodka in Japan?”

“Viktor’s room,” offhandedly remarked the blonde with a shrug, pushing a few rice crackers into his hand.  “Eat these too.”

When he had finished the tea, the younger teen obligingly took the empty cup from his hand. 

NNN

The brunette felt a cool compress being pressed against his forehead, it felt nice, like how his mom used to care for him as a child.  He hadn’t spent a lot of time at home since he turned 13; traveling from Russia to the U.S. then to Canada, before returning home nearly two years ago. 

Yuri had pushed their beds together, sitting up on his mattress, as he looked down at his best friend, who lay there wrapped in a cocoon of blankets—courtesy of the tiger.

“Yura?” he mumbled, albeit a little incoherently, from his prison of blankets.

“Yeah?” replied the younger teen, replacing the compress with a cooler one from the basin beside the bed, and placing it on Otabek’s forehead.

His cheeks were flushed and his breathing a little labored from the evident fever on his features, “We’re best friends, right?”

“ _Otaya_ ,” began Yuri with a grin and his voice laced with sarcasm, “you have a cold, you’re not dying.”

He heard a murmur, “I know…”

“But you will be if you give me the plague…”

The blonde’s eyes glimmered in amusement when he heard a chuckle in response.

“Don’t leave…” came a muffled phrase from the fortress of blankets.

Yuri rolled his eyes, “Where am I going to go?  We’re sharing the same room,” the mound of blankets seemed to acknowledge this logic, “…and I’m not fucking sleeping with Viktor or the Japanese Pig.”

NNN

Yuri pushed the soaked hair away from the Kazakh’s forehead and looked up when he heard the door quietly slide open.

Katsudon’s mother gave him a small smile, “How is he feeling?” she whispered.

She had that look, the one Yuri supposed all mothers did, when checking on a sick child. 

“He’s been sleeping for about an hour now,” murmured the Russian, he watched as she placed her hand on his forehead.

“I think you’ll find the fever is going down,” she announced with that same knowing smile, “Are you hungry?”

He nodded and she went off with the promise of bringing him a snack in a few minutes.

NNN

Yuri sat quietly munching on curry bread, and scrolling through his social media.  He heard when the _idiots_ had returned, shortly before dinner, and was about to go threaten the lives out of them if they dared to wake up Otabek, but he needn’t worry because Katsudon’s mother had run interference, shuffling them to another section of the inn.

So that’s what mothers did…

NNN

Yuri had started to doze, finding himself on his back, ear buds in when he felt something warm around his middle.  He tilted his head to the side to find the Kazakh’s arm around his waist, and head pressed against Yuri’s shoulder.

“Do I look like one of your teddy bears?” he questioned, but there wasn’t any malice in his voice, and his emerald eyes didn’t hold the disinterest they did when talking to most.

The Russian noted that Otabek’s head was cooler than before, his cheeks not as flushed, and watched as the brunette pressed his cheek against the palm of his hand.

He’d have a good time teasing his best friend about this.  The brunette wasn’t so stoic when he was asleep.  Seriously, Yuri wouldn’t waste his time caring for just any person…other than his grandfather, he’d never cared about anyone.  No one had ever really given him the opportunity…

NNN

Otabek awoke to sunlight peeking through the blinds.  His mind was a little foggy from the previous day’s events, but he recalled Yuri’s face as he cared for him.  This caused his eyes to focus and realize that their beds had been pushed together and that the object of his affection was sleeping beside him. 

Why was his bed currently holding him hostage?  How many damn blankets had he accumulated?  Did Yuri rob everyone in _Yu-Topia_ of their bedding?

Even with his lips parted, hair mussed and escaping its pony tail, and body resting in some odd angle, Yuri still looked beautiful.  The door quietly slid and he was greeted with the sight of Katsuki’s mother.  She wore a welcoming smile.

“You’re better?”

He was still groggy, but nodded rather dumbly, “Yes.”

Her kind eyes moved over to the sleeping blonde.  “He stayed up most of the night taking care of you.”

Otabek found his eyes softening at her statement and then blinked, feeling her hand on his forehead.

“He did a good job,” she announced, her eyes brimming with thoughtfulness, “no fever.”

Katsuki’s mother promised to keep the others quiet and suggested they sleep in. She’d get breakfast when the pair was ready.  The Kazakh thanked her and returned his head to the pillow once the door had closed.  He turned his head toward the blonde and smiled.

_Oh, I love him…_

It was a very contented thought that entered his mind. 

NNN

Over the next few days a couple of the skaters had left; however, for the ones that remained they were informed that the town would host its annual festival.  There would be a parade, fireworks, festive foods and games.

Apparently at _Yu-Topia_ another popular pastime was karaoke.  Mari, Minako and Yuuko occupied a table.  Chris, Viktor, Katsuki and Phichit, (whether from drawing the short straw or his own choosing), at the drunkard table.  Leaving Otabek, Yuri, Leo and Guang at the third table. 

Everyone had dressed in their casual clothing, apparently karaoke and snacks were before changing into their festive attire.  Viktor had promised a special surprise for each of them, as far as their outfits were concerned. 

This left the teens a little nervous, since Viktor’s taste both sober and drunk was a little off…

As one would assume, Leo, Guang and Phichit were happy to be the first willing contestants on _Yu-Topia Idol._ Viktor and Chris were too busy sipping their alcohol and talking about their next big move in their skating careers. 

“Yuuri hasn’t sung yet,” informed Chris with a grin, knowing that Viktor would take the bait.

“He’s right my little, Kobuta-chan,” cooed Viktor much to the dismay of a certain blonde, “You’ll probably sound the best.”

“Tch,” offered Yuri with a glare, “or he’ll make our ears bleed.”

5 minutes later…

So how was it that both Katsuki and Yuri were currently standing in front of everyone holding microphones?  Life was strange…

Oh that’s right.  Viktor made a comment about Yuri being jealous.  Chris made a bet about Yuri not being able to sing.  Leo and Guang’s interest was sparked because maybe _he could_ sing.  Katsuki wished Viktor wasn’t pushing him toward the front and that maybe he’d had more than one shot of alcohol, while standing next to the imposing figure of Russia’s Ice Tiger.  The girls mentioned photos of a _certain dance off_ and Yuri just hoped that people’s clothes were going to stay on before dinner, as Otabek gave him a thumbs up.

(Note: Both Katsudon’s and Yuri’s voice actors are amazingly talented singers – my inspiration was from the Anime Zetsuen No Tempest character songs: “Hoshi No Fune” and “Arashi no Rhapsody” –both are on YouTube).

The music started, as Chris whispered to Viktor, “Can Yuuri sing?”

Viktor grinned and took another swig of alcohol, “He sings in the shower when he thinks he’s home alone.” 

Katsuki looked like a man who just wanted to get this over with ASAP, nervousness washed all over his features.  He began to sing and Viktor nodded in approval, Chris tipped his glass and Phichit made sure to record this momentous occasion in his friend’s life. 

Katsuki was earning numerous cheers and claps from the audience.

It was the moment of truth as all eyes went to Yuri Plisetsky, who looked disinterested, one hand holding the microphone, the other in the pocket of his jacket. 

Yet what happened next had glasses breaking.

Chris dropped his glass and Mari damn near passed out from the images of her _boy band ideals_ coming to life, as Minako’s wide grin etched across her face.

Viktor whistled.  Leo and Guang high fived.  Yuuko might be gushing bodily fluids, and Otabek may have found just one more reason to love the Russian Ice Tiger. 

Nothing was better than when the two of them sang together and it became a battle royale.  However, one might say they were actually having fun, if Phichit’s video on social media was any indicator.

NNN  

The Kazakh wasn’t sure what he thought of the white kimono.  He supposed that the blue eagles representing his home country were a nice touch, and it wasn’t as embarrassing as he might have thought—being a gift from Viktor after all.  The sleeves would take some getting used to, and thankfully Katsuki’s mother had buzzed around from room to room assisting with tying the obis around each of the skaters’ waists. 

Yuri knocked on the door, having returned from changing into his _special_ attire for the festival.  He heard Otabek’s voice from the other side and slowly slid open the door.

“You look pretty cool,” informed the tiger with a grin, standing in the doorway of the room. 

The brunette turned with a sigh and then felt his face wanting to betray him.  The younger teen stood before him in a blue sleeveless kimono, adorned with tigers, and his hair pulled back, showcasing those piercing emerald eyes.    

“So do you…” afraid that if he said anything else his voice may betray him. 

NNN

Several group shots had been taken under the light of the lantern filled streets before everyone went off into their own groups.  They’d run into Yuuko and her kids, and that damn _medical condition_ had been triggered.

When he turned around, from seemingly out of nowhere Yuri was consuming something in the shape of a fish and requiring the use of both hands to hold it, due to the sheer size of the confection. 

“What are you eating?” wondered the Kazakh, sitting alongside of the blonde on the nearby bench.

“Not a clue…” informed Yuri in between bites, “…everyone was in line for one.”

Otabek was starting to ponder the mysterious contents of the street food when the Russian held it up towards his mouth.

“Try it?” He suggested, emerald eyes full of warmth, “It’s really good.”

When Yuri Plisetsky offers you food, you better accept.

The brunette took a bite and chewed thoughtfully before almond eyes widened.  He quickly excused himself and got in line to order not one, but two, of the delicious cakes.  One for himself; the second to share with his favorite Russian.

NNN

Children’s games could be dangerous.  Especially when you’ve got Viktor, a Japanese Pig and a pop gun.  Otabek and Yuri managed to duck just in time as Viktor’s roaming hands caused the cork to ricochet off a bottle and whiz past their heads.

Yuri tapped Otabek’s shoulder, something catching his eye.  “I’ll be right back,” he informed before starting off.

The brunette nodded, he’d take his chance with the next game.

NNN

It was kind of stupid, but he figured Yuri would still like it, holding the object in his arms and waiting for his companion to return. 

He heard that familiar voice and turned with the gift in hand.  Yuri’s smile broadened as he laughed at the sight before him.

“Well shit…”

Otabek’s stoicism was starting to crack, with the upturn of his lips.

“Trade?” offered the Russian, with a grin that rivaled a tiger.

Yuri accepted the orange tiger plush in hand as Otabek received the brown bear. 

NNN

They’d stopped on the bridge, away from the crowds and the noise, where the soft city lights could be seen reflecting and flickering on the water’s surface. 

Otabek leaned on the rail, his eyes transfixed on the scenery.  He’d made his decision this morning before Yuri had awoken.  He’d looked at the sleeping blonde and known there wasn’t going to be a much better time to come clean.  Today’s events had just been perfect.  In case things went poorly, Otabek made the coward’s decision to reserve the flight to Kazahkstan to spare them from the unpleasantness of continuing to share a room for the next week.

“Yura?”

He was really going to do it…

“Yeah,” replied the blonde at his side, looking out over the water, arms leaning against the rail of the bridge.

“I don’t like you as a friend,” came that clear-cut honest tone that had once asked for Yuri’s friendship.

However when Yuri turned toward him, he clammed up!  Giving way to a slew of confusion.

_Oh fuck._

“HUH!?”

The look of disbelief on that beautiful face as it began to convulse into confusion.

“I mean,” the older teen tried to be reassuring but the inner monologue inside of his head was outweighing the processing, “I don’t want to be your friend.”

Yup the Titantic had officially hit that iceberg….

_Oh my God!_

This ship was sinking! 

Otabek took a deep breath and faced the one he had thought about none stop for so long, before calmly stating, “I want to be more than friends.”

Yuri looked like he’d been on a bad carnival ride, one that distorts your equilibrium and leaves you wanting to hurl into a trashcan. 

“Have you been drinking?” was the only plausible thing that was coming to the Russian’s mind, as he stood there gaping in disbelief.

Otabek silently shook his head, and Yuri with a look of bewilderment reached forward to touch his forehead, “Are you sick again?”

“Yuri Plisetsky,” he sincerely stated with all the poise he could muster, watching as the blonde’s actions ceased, “I’m in love with you.”

And based on the look on the Russian’s face and the emotions reflecting in those eyes, (the ones that had plagued him for so long), the Kazakh’s feelings had been better left unspoken…

NNN

Phew!  Wasn’t that a long one?  Please review!  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Highlights in Hasetsu – Part 2

NNN

Otabek wasn’t sure how the impact from a plush tiger could leave such a throbbing in the back of his head.  It had actually rendered him motionless for a couple of seconds, having bounced off his head with a faint _squeak_ —the stuffing having no doubt, threatened, to escape due to the sheer force.  

“You can’t just say shit like _that_ and threaten to leave, you _asshole_!”

Correction.  The Kazakh knew _exactly_ how a plush tiger, driven at your head by Yuri Plisetsky could hurt…

He pinched the bridge of his nose.  Perhaps admitting his non-platonic emotions, taking Yuri’s silence as the final nail in the coffin, and then further stating that he was going back to the inn to collect his things and head home, had _not been_ the best course of action?

The brunette’s social skills were lackluster at best…

He slowly turned to face the ticking time bomb behind him.  He’d seen others on the receiving end of those piercing green eyes.  It wasn’t something the older teen was looking forward to…

Yet when he turned he saw the blond to be rather calm, a soft tinge on his pale cheeks as he leaned against the rail of the bridge.  It reminded Otabek of Barcelona, when they stood at Park Guell, overlooking the city. 

The Kazakh was contemplating the best plan of approach, when Yuri’s voice invaded his thoughts.

“Why?” it was a softly spoken question, as he gazed out over the water’s edge.  “Why would you feel that way about _someone like me_?”

Almond irises widened in response to the _raw_ emotion behind those words.

“…My own parents didn’t even want me…” continued the beautiful boy at his side, (jade eyes clouded with some unspoken memory), his demeanor calm, “…so why would _you_?”

The sound of a fish breaking the surface of the water, causes a rippling effect both on the reflection of the city’s lights and in Otabek’s heart.  They stand in companionable silence, their actions mirroring one another’s—arms against the bridge rail, torsos slightly bent, the quiet lapping of waves below. 

This isn’t a question that can be rushed to be answered…it requires some thought and a repertoire of emotions that neither readily possesses. 

The normal masculine quality in his voice seems to betray him, his mouth feels dry, “…Because I see something in you, _Yura_ …something that most people aren’t given the opportunity to.  It happens when we talk…”

Yuri’s gaze shifted toward the older teen, as Otabek continued, “you don’t put on airs around me, and I’ve never been more comfortable...”

“It’s because you’re the fucking coolest person I know,” interjected the blond, as he anchored his attention on his friend, “it’s not like I have many people to talk to.”

Otabek knew this to be true, as evidenced by Yuri’s abrasive nature—he was brutally honest and did not mince his words.  Yet, he respected him for it and always knew where he stood with the Russian.

“…But it’s more than that,” continued the brunette with a steady breath, “it’s how you inspire me on the ice, and how I am always thinking about you…”

Yuri let these words resonate into his mind.  It was Otabek saying them, so it was _alright_.  He needn’t feel anger over them, even if he didn’t fully comprehend them.  Sincerity was new to the younger boy—he wasn’t accustomed to people wanting him. 

“ _Otaya,_ you probably need your head examined…” his voice laced with sarcasm, as the Russian continued, “you do realize, you like me because of my personality, right?”

The upturn of the brunette’s lips didn’t go undetected, “It surprised me, too.”

They both chuckled into the quiet night before Yuri turned toward him.  Otabek’s eyes widened, seeing Yuri’s outstretched hand.

“So you’ll stay,” his emerald eyes shifted for a moment, a hint of pink on his cheeks, before seeming to make up his mind.  The blond fixed his piercing irises on the Kazakh again, they seemed to hold a quiet resolution, “so we can figure this shit out?”

He took hold of Yuri’s hand and felt the confidence within its grip.  Their linked hands seeming to say, _we’re going to be fine._

NNN

The walk back wasn’t awkward, it was full of insight and observation…

“These fucking shoes are uncomfortable.”

Otabek nodded, because they really were.

“I think we’d be better off walking barefoot,” huffed the blond at his side, “at least the food was good…”

“It was,” agreed the Kazakh, holding his bear plush, while his companion carried the retrieved tiger in hand. 

“I say we ditch these clothes, grab our shorts and cannon ball into one of those hot tubs,” offered the Russian with a smirk.

“Works for me,” stated his companion, the light of the inn coming into view.

NNN

Yuri gave an exaggerated sigh as he flopped onto the bed, face down and sprawling out for emphasis, in a tiger shirt and black shorts.

Otabek chuckled, this kid was dramatic, but he loved him.  He stood with his arms crossed, wearing a gray tank top and matching pair of pajama pants.

Yuri’s hair was still damp and loose, shielding his face as he sighed into his pillow. 

“Yura…”

“Hmm?”

“Are we really… _alright_?”

The uncertainty in his voice seemed to ring out through the room.  I mean, it was kind of odd, having confessed his feelings less than two hours ago and now Otabek felt like it was some sort of a dream. 

Yuri turned his head, his hair moving away to reveal his sharp cheek bone and narrowed eye as he regarded his best friend.

“I said we were, didn’t I?”

The Kazakh sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “You did,” he affirmed, “and that we would figure it out.”

“And we will,” reiterated the blond, “You don’t believe me?”

The irritated huff hadn’t gone unnoticed. Otabek shifted his weight as he stood, “I don’t know what to think right now.”

Yuri sat up with a grumpy expression on his features and settled on sitting cross legged on the bed.

“Look, the other night when you were sick, you kind of said a bunch of shit…”

Otabek blanched, he hadn’t looked this way since Yuri had tracked him to that nightclub in Barcelona.

“…You were talking about _someone_ who you loved…”

_Oh my God._

The blonde averted his eyes in an attempt to make things a little easier on both of them, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“…while you kind of used me as a teddy bear…” he then added with a sense of bravado, “which I have photographic evidence of for blackmail purposes.”

_I want to die!_

Seeing Otabek’s not so stoic reaction, caused the blond to grin for a moment, “Of course, I didn’t know that _someone_ was me.  I only knew that you had told me that when you did meet _someone_ we’d still be friends.”

There was an evident pink hue on the older teen’s darkened skin.  He tried to look casual, arms crossed, weight shifting as he failed miserably.

“So it got me thinking,” Yuri looked pissed off about the entire stupid conversation, “that I didn’t really _mind_ you and there was no fucking way that I would waste my time caring for someone like Viktor or Katsudon…”

They really were a lot alike.  Awkward as hell when it came to emotions, but somehow the words were reaching the other.

“There’s no way we’re going to be as gross as the geezer and his pig…”

“I should hope not.”

They both smirked at one another. 

NNN

They’d watched some low budget movie on Netflix before falling asleep.  Yuri lay quietly in the dark on his side mirroring his sleeping companion.

It gave him time to think, time to feel in the privacy of his own thoughts…

His whole life had revolved around two things: taking care of his grandfather and skating.  His first friend, sleeping next to him, hadn’t happened until he was 15…he was certain most people had friends before then.  His only friend had been a Ragdoll by the name of _Potya_ , who he had bought after winning his first Junior World Championship.  He would be 17 in a few months and it wasn’t until recently that his views about the Kazakh had begun to shift. 

It wasn’t a secret that other than his grandfather, Otabek was the only tolerable person in his life. 

Correction, there was one more thing that he had grown accustomed to in his life…

People usually left, and he was usually the reason for it.

He hadn’t lied, they were going to _sort this shit out_. Yuri would be lying to himself though if he said the idea of losing the Kazakh hadn’t crossed his mind. 

The Russian closed his eyes for a moment thinking back to the other night…

_“…Yura?”_

_Yuri really wished that Otabek would either A. relinquish his hold on him or B. go the fuck to sleep._

_“Yes?” he replied, because his friend was sick and it was only close to two in the morning._

_“How do you tell someone…” murmured his feverish captor, “that you love them…without scaring them away?”_

_HUH?!_

_How the hell should he know?!_

_“I-I don’t know…” fumbled the blond._

_His eyes softened as a thought entered his mind, ‘Otabek has met someone.’_

_“I guess,” considered Yuri for a moment, “you just have to fucking tell them and hope that they aren’t an asshole?”_

_Otabek chuckled, the vibration from his chest flowing into Yuri in the process._

It would be alright, they still had a full week together to sort through everything…

NNN

Breakfast wasn’t out of the ordinary and nothing had outwardly shifted in their relationship.  Yuri was packing the food away and how anyone could look that cute with bits of food attached to their face was a mystery to Otabek. 

Phichit had taken an early morning flight, Viktor and Chris had drank too much the night before and Katsuki had yet to make his appearance.

Leo and Guang sat across from them talking about social media and their upcoming competitions.  It seemed that both were keen on meeting Yuri at a championship, much to the surprise of the Russian. 

“You’re skating is really amazing,” complimented Guang with a smile.

Yuri found that these two, he could more readily tolerate, than some of the other members of the skating community. The blond always seemed a little off when dealing with sincerity, so he merely nodded.

“You should try choosing your own music, like you did in your exhibition skate,” offered Leo, taking a sip of his tea, “It’d make a bigger impact on your performance.”

Emerald eyes seemed to be honestly considering their words, as Otabek sat quietly alongside of the Russian, happy that he hadn’t left on an evening flight.

NNN

“Alright, Katsudon,” announced the blonde, hair pulled back, adorned in black training pants, cheetah print sneakers and his Bosco jacket, as he regarded the Japanese man with his arms crossed, “Viktor says you’ve gained weight and—

Katsuki seemed to wince, “Yurio, I—

“Since you’ve been eating and drinking, I’m saddled with your ass today for training.”

Yuri Plisetsky, did not mince his words.  Katsuki mumbled, “…I’m pretty sure you eat more than me…”

“Did you say something, _Buta_?” came an irritated response from the imposing Russian Ice Tiger.

Yuri hadn’t had any real growth spurts or noticeable changes in his body, but his presence could still fill a room and scare off most. 

NNN

Otabek, Leo and Guang were working on their stretches from across the way and the consensus seemed to be _pity_ for Katsuki.

Leo looked over in mid pushup and sighed, “How many crunches is that?”

Guang came up in his push and pondered, watching as the two simultaneously went on the board, “I admire their determination.”

Otabek merely looked on with one thought in between his own pushup, Katsuki was going to be dead by lunch and Yuri was going to be famished.

NNN

A familiar sound entered the Kazakh’s ears, it was one of the playlists he had given to Yuri.  Leo and Guang seemed interested.

“Leo, this music is great, no?”

“Sure is. I wonder what it is?”

The stoic brunette offered, “It’s mine.  I made it for Yuri…”

At which point, he now understood why the Russian clammed up when under the scrutiny of these two.

“It’s amazing!” they both cheered, their bubbly expressions and the close proximity of their faces to his, making him feel more than a little self-conscious.

NNN

Somehow Otabek had fallen prey to his workout partners as they all peeked around the corner to find Yuri and Katsuki in a room with two treadmills.

“This music is really great, Yurio,” complimented Katsuki with a genuine smile.

“Right?,” agreed Yuri, pointing his index finger upward with a fierce grin, “Otabek made it, so you know it’s going to be fucking cool.”

The Kazakh could feel two sets of eyes, seemingly grinning at him, in response to the Russian’s statement.  He was trying very hard to keep his stoicism in place, but the pink hue was threatening his features.

“Don’t think you’re going to distract me though,” informed Yuri with a huff, “We’re going to get that disgusting gut of yours under control, because if I beat you, while you’re in _this_ condition,” he seemed to accentuate the so called _this_ by gesturing with his hands the unseemly shape of Katsuki’s gut and looked disgusted, while the Japanese man’s head hung lower, “it won’t really be a win.”

Leo and Guang whispered simultaneously, “So cruel…”

Both assumed positions on their treadmills as the next song hit the speakers…

Otabek felt really bad for Katsuki because this was a long remix he had created.  He felt worse when he saw the Russian grin with no remorse before hitting the control panel of Katsuki’s machine and watched as the treadmill increased its speed, at the song’s crescendo.

“Yurio!!!!” cried Katsuki, stumbling once before falling back into place. 

Russia’s Ice Tiger merely laughed, as he ran along side of his _greatest_ rival, emerald eyes shining with mirth. 

NNN

They were all on the ice for yet another Viktor Nikiforov bonding experience…

“Let’s just skate for fun!” announced Viktor with a smile.

And that’s exactly what they were doing…

Yuri couldn’t remember the last time he had just skated for fun.  Did that even exist anymore in competitive skating?  Apparently fun came with some hiccups as the lights dimmed, with all the added effects of the disco era, and the music was a far cry from what they normally listened to.

“Huh?!”

The Russian watched as Leo and Guang skated by with much enthusiasm with their hands in the air and the swinging of hips to _Caramelldansen._

He and Otabek seemed to skate in slow motion at the very sight.  Yet it got worse…

“Yurio!  You should try this,” exclaimed Viktor with far too much gusto as he and Katsuki skated past them, not missing a beat in time with the music.

“You’re an embarrassment to our country!” The irate tiger shook his fist at his happy go lucky countryman. 

And it only got better…

Apparently Chris felt that he needed to melt the ice with a little _uptown funk_ …

Otabek and Yuri managed to narrowly miss the Swiss as he inconveniently decided to _come on the ice_ in their path. 

“Oi! Don’t do that shit here,” huffed the tiger, rejoining the Kazakh in their skate.

Otabek believed Yuri’s statement was loud enough for the both of him, although he did have a strained expression on his face as Chris sat provocatively.

“Wow! Amazing,” announced Viktor with a clap for emphasis as he and Katsuki skated by on the outside.

“Viktor…don’t encourage him…” murmured the Japanese man, feeling overcome by such a _strong eros_.

NNN

And better…

“Are those losers really playing tag?” observed Yuri with a sigh, “What are they 5?”

Otabek looked in the direction of Katsuki who was currently skating after Viktor with a playful, “Viktooooooor,” escaping his lips.

Another lap of that shit and…

“Huh?!” 

Yuri turned to find that Viktor had the audacity to tap his shoulder.

“You’re it, _koneko-chan_!”

What happened next had all of the skaters—minus the Kazakh—skating for their lives, as the tiger emerged and took off in great strides.

Leo and Guang cried, “He’s so fast!”

Katsuki whined, “Viktor, I don’t think that was a good idea!”

Otabek felt two things at that moment: one, Yuri could have a fall back career as a speed skater and two, it was like watching National Geographic unfold. 

NNN

Apparently Viktor had requested some lame ass 80’s song, as the lyrics suggested _wanting to dance with somebody and feeling the heat with that somebody…_

Yuri had taken the opportunity to get a drink from his water bottle, leaving Otabek to do a few jumps on his own.  He came out of his triple and blinked, at the sight of Viktor and Katsuki, happily and albeit a little too quickly, spinning toward him as the lyrics rang out over the speaker system,

_I want to dance with somebody who loves me…_

The Kazakh inwardly groaned, _Oh shit…_

But then he felt his hand being tugged and his body pulled forward, looking back as Viktor and Katsuki spiraled into the wall and right over it with fits of laughter.

The brunette fixed his almond eyes on those of the tiger before him.  Yuri was skating backwards, the fingers of his left hand laced with Otabek’s right.

“You almost became the filling in an ugly ass sandwich,” informed the younger teen with a smirk, his hair pushed back due to the speed, and his jade eyes brimming with amusement.

Leo and Guang skated past them, also holding hands, (because pair skating was now a thing or something), and challenged them to a speed skate. 

Yuri turned forward, without missing a beat, as Otabek felt the Russian’s grip tighten around his own, before taking off after the couple. 

Skating was more fun with a partner after all…

NNN

Chris returned home that afternoon, promising Viktor something lewd before his departure.

The days seemed to be traveling all too quickly, as they now sat occupying a blanket on the beach.  Katsuki said that it would be one of the best places to see the fireworks as the festival concluded.

Leo and Guang were skipping stones in the moonlight.  Viktor and Katsuki’s blanket was noted to be placed f _ar far away_ from the teens. 

Yuri leaned back, folding his arm under his head and gazed upward at the night sky.  The evening had developed to be too cool to be wearing any of their festive attire, so jeans, hoodies and jackets had sufficed.  Otabek had been comfortably gazing upward for a few minutes before his companion joined him.

The stars seemed to dance in the younger teen’s jade eyes and his gaze didn’t stray when he felt the Kazakh gently take hold of his hand.  Otabek’s features were calm as he gave Yuri a sideways glance.

They would be going home tomorrow with the knowledge that their relationship was changing. 

They both sat up a few minutes later as the first round of fireworks erupted into the night sky with an accompanying _crackle_. The brightly colored flowers bloomed before their eyes, setting the sky ablaze. 

Leo and Guang cheered at the joyous display, Viktor and Katsuki embraced and Otabek’s hand tightened around Yuri’s.  It was a warm feeling, and there was something about the way their hands fit together, that made it feel more intimate. 

NNN

The early morning sun was starting to seep in through the blinds of the room.  It was warm, no it was more than the sunlight that made the morning warm, and it was the feeling of skin, the softness of breath dancing across his cheek. 

Eyelids lifted to reveal golden brown irises, as they focused and took in the sight of a sleeping blond, head resting on the same pillow, forehead against the Kazakh’s.  Without much thought, Otabek cupped the back of the boy’s head, his hand resting in soft golden tresses and closed his eyes once more.

There wasn’t anything more than this that the brunette required, but feeling the Russian reach up, tousling his undercut in the process, and unconsciously pull closer, might have been more rewarding than any medal.

Later they would return to their own countries, return to mastering their routines and look forward to the podium at the European FS Championship in Moscow…

NNN


	12. A Day in Moscow with You

Author’s Note: I hope that everyone had a lovely holiday season.  I know that technically Otabek wouldn’t be in the competition, but I want him with Yuri and since Kazakhstan used to be part of the U.S.S.R. humor me…

In other news, I am looking forward to seeing the European Championship this upcoming week and Evgenia is scheduled to make her return!

NNN

 

A knock came from the hotel room door and Otabek was certain he had crossed the distance from the room’s sofa to the door a little too quickly.  It was just that he looked forward to the sight on the other side and he was not disappointed upon turning the handle and pulling open the door.

“Hey…” greeted the emerald eyed blond adorned in a white winter jacket with cheetah print ear muffs resting around his neck, and his typical black skinny jeans. 

The winter weather had been mild for this time of year in Moscow and today the sun was shining.  It was the perfect day to have plans before the weekend was bogged down by training and the thoughts of the upcoming championship.

“Hey…” replied the Kazakh, his eyes softening as Yuri entered the room and slowly shut the door.

Their usual greeting remained in effect, even though they’d hardly been able to chat since leaving Hasetsu, outside of text messages.  The only real difference now was the length of their embrace upon being reunited.

NNN

They stood in a comfortable silence, the brunette’s arms wrapped around the smaller teen’s shoulders.  Yuri’s hand currently rested in between the Kazakh’s shoulder blades, while his chin occupied his right shoulder.  The embrace felt natural, and their evolving relationship was relaxed and needn’t be bogged down by words or labels.  This probably a good thing considering neither was known for being overly affectionate.

After another minute or so the blond murmured, “Uh, Otabek?”

Yuri’s voice had interrupted the reverie of his companion, “Hm?”

“How long are we supposed to stand here?”

Otabek couldn’t help but chuckle at the quizzical tone of his voice.  He could tell that Yuri was rolling his eyes with his next statement,

“I mean, you said you wanted to see Moscow, and you can’t really _see_ shit from inside a hotel room…”

This was true.

NNN

Yuri had asked in advance where the Kazakh wanted to go during their day off.  They’d arrived a day before most competitors, Otabek staying at the official hotel and Yuri spending a few days with his grandfather, before checking into room at the same hotel.    

They’d settled on _Red Square_ which housed the famous _Saint Basil’s Cathedral_ and the nearby _Gorky Park_. 

The Russian knew the ins and outs of the metro system for most of the city, and the nearest station wasn’t far from the hotel.  After passing inspection, (aka: you’re going to want that scarf, those gloves, and your hooded jacket), the Kazakh was deemed worthy of adventuring out into the cold with Yuri.

NNN

They decided to enter the square through the _Voskresenskyie_ , (Resurrection) _Gates_.  Yuri had warned that this area was often the busiest for tourists, but Otabek would get the full feel of the square.

Currently occupying their spot in line, (amongst an overwhelming amount of tourists), and awaiting to enter through the arch of the gateway, the brunette took in his surroundings.  High above were two towers depicting stained glass Russian Icons and golden winged angels.  One of the nearby plaques held the word, _красная,_ which as Yuri explained had a dual purpose, for it could mean _red_ referencing the square, or _beautiful_ for it housed the cathedral. 

Otabek rather liked the second meaning of the word, especially when he felt Yuri take hold of his hand as the line moved further ahead. 

NNN

They stood outside of the entrance at _Saint Basil’s Cathedral_ , as Otabek admired the vibrant reds, blues and greens of the onion domes.  The blond had grabbed some unsuspecting couple and asked for them to take their photo. 

Yuri had already decided he wouldn’t upload any photos until tomorrow—no sense in alerting any _angels_ to his whereabouts today.  This made the Kazakh breathe a little easier, because seriously, he didn’t want to share the emerald eyed boy with anyone today…or most days…

NNN

They found themselves occupying a corner table in a café named _Shokoladnitsa_ , finding themselves needing to refuel and warm up after a few hours of walking.  Yuri had already been warned by Yakov to not fully ruin his diet in the span of 48 hours, (even if the blond possessed the metabolism of a race horse), not that Yuri really listened to his coach.

Still, he had settled on a sandwich because he needn’t starve himself, and Otabek seemed smitten with his sandwich so it was a win/win.  That didn’t mean his drink had to be so wholesome, he’d even gotten the Kazakh to _live a little_ as they both currently sipped their Венский десерт, or _Viennese Dessert_.  It was a creamy tea with dark and white chocolate pieces, which Yuri knew even _Otabek_ couldn’t refuse that.

It would just be their little secret, until Yuri posted it to social media the following day…

The younger teen’s phone vibrated from its resting spot on the table and the teen almost immediately answered. 

“Dedushka?”

Otabek stoically sipped his drink…

_The damn thing is good._

However, Yuri was horrid for his diet plan.  He felt a slight warming of his cheeks, recalling how the teen with those beautiful eyes had offhandedly remarked that he liked Otabek’s figure, and not to worry about one _potentially bad day_ of eating.

“ _Otaya_?”

_Shit.  Was I staring?_

“Yeah?” he tried to casually respond, lowering the cup from his lips and fixing his gaze on his companion.

“Would you like to come to dinner?  Dedushka’s making pirozhkis and borscht.”

How could Otabek say no to that offer or to Yuri’s stunning smile?

“Of course,” was his sincere reply, his golden brown eyes softening, hearing the Russian work out their dinner plans.

NNN

Next stop was Gorky Park, they’d utilized the metro again to cover the distance and made plans for a later dinner so they could see _Stereo Winter_ as the sun would set around 4pm. 

Gorky Park was turned into one big ice rink in the winter, and ironically enough, they could skate in plain sight in amongst the crowds and remain anonymous.

Now to add to the fun, the event’s theme of s _tereo_ —taken from the Greek word, had turned the park into a place of light, music and events.  It was actually the perfect setting since _music_ was such an instrumental part of their lives and their relationship. 

They had received a Quiz-Quest map and had been informed that on this skate they would be taking a trip into history, into holidays of past centuries to be specific.  The trip would find them following in the tradition, when noblemen decorated Christmas trees with candles, fruits, sweets and toys.  Along the ice avenues, _Stereokatka_ (or hidden decorations), would be found in the shape of winged animals, holiday characters and crystal hearts.  These objects would be hidden in optical illusions and light installations, which would be lit at dusk in the park—each team would have to decipher and complete the tasks on the quest to complete it. 

NNN

The lights were brilliant—as turquoise and fuchsia seemed to ignite through park and lit the ice avenues. 

Yuri was currently skating backwards, reading the clues out loud as they begin deciphering their meanings.

So far they were doing rather well.  Otabek knew that Yuri was a competitor in most things, whether it be skating, dance offs, eating contests or now collecting random objects on a quest. 

This was just one more thing that the Kazakh liked about the Russian, he was always eager to attempt something new.  Yuri possessed a fire inside of him, one that had inspired the brunette to keep trying to achieve his goals—he just hadn’t realized at the time that Yuri was one of those goals.

“I know the answer,” informed the older teen, taking hold of Yuri’s hand and pulling him along.

He really didn’t, as the Russian would soon learn, but he got to hold the younger boy’s hand anyways…

NNN

Dinner with Yuri and his grandfather had sounded good earlier…but now as they sat on the bus headed toward Yuri’s house, he was feeling unsure.

Said house, also housed the younger teen’s _most important person_.  This wasn’t a press conference; however, Otabek felt just as nervous.

_What if Yuri’s, grandfather doesn’t like me?_

Before more questions could enter his mind, he was interrupted,

“C’mon, this is our stop.”

He looked up into jade irises, the boy not only the keeper of those piercing eyes but the owner of the Kazakh’s heart.  Yuri tugged on Otabek’s hand with a grin,

“Unless you want to ride the bus all night and let me eat your portion at dinner?”

NNN

Yuri’s home wasn’t too far of a walk from the bus stop.  The temps were holding, but having left a warm bus seat for the elements was a bit harrowing.  It was a quiet residential neighborhood, small houses lining each side of the street.  Yuri’s childhood home was no different—a humble blue painted house with white trim. 

NNN

The blond opened the front door and stepped inside, closing the door once Otabek had entered. 

“Dedushka, we’re here,” announced Yuri, beginning to remove his shoes and outer weather attire.

Otabek followed suit and carefully hung his jacket on the peg on the wall.  The house was warm and the smell of wood smoke and home cooking invaded his senses.

The moment of truth presented itself in the form of Nikolai Plisetsky.  The Kazakh felt his heart begin to speed up.

“Oh _Yurochka_ ,” fondly greeted the older gentleman, wiping his floured hands on the kitchen towel he had brought with him from the kitchen.  “Is this your friend?”

“Aa,” good naturedly informed the blond, with a gesture toward Otabek, “Otabek, this is my Dedushka, Nikolai Plisetsky.”

The almond eyed teen held out his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Nikolai frowned, “Sir?  Do I really look like an old man?”

The brunette’s breath caught in his lungs, _Oh shit!_

Then he felt Yuri’s elbow playfully jab him in the side, jarring him from his thoughts, “He’s kidding…”

Nikolai took hold of his hand and gave it a warm shake, “Welcome.”

NNN

The teen had been instructed to make himself comfortable as he sat on the grey couch next to the fire place in the living room.  He could see that Yuri had pulled his hair half back and was stirring the borscht in the kettle on the kitchen’s stovetop, as he spoke to his grandfather about his day.

The furnishings in the living room the Kazakh observed were modest and the only photographs on the shelves were of a woman, (who he assumed was Yuri’s grandmother), and those of Nikolai and Yuri. 

It was a stark contrast to his parents’ home with photographs of his immediate and extended family bursting from nearly every room.  It made Otabek realize how fortunate he was, as he recalled Yuri mentioning that his own parents hadn’t wanted him, and that he skated to provide for himself and his grandfather. 

He glanced into the kitchen once more, as Nikolai patted his grandson’s head and gave an affectionate smile.  Yuri sampled the borscht and gave a nod of his head to indicate his approval, his expression unguarded, and making Otabek love him even more. 

NNN

His diet was definitely shot to hell…

If the foods on the table tasted as good as they smelled, (and he was certain they would), he was going to have a hard time restraining himself. 

Otabek bit into the pirozhki and then felt two sets of eyes on him, as he chewed thoughtfully.  Both Plisetskys were almost perched in their seats, awaiting some sort of verdict.

The Kazakh swallowed and then murmured, “It’s really good.”

He watched as Yuri’s grin spread across his face and his grandfather gave a pleased look.

NNN

Chess with tea commenced while Yuri did the dishes.  The blonde looked around the corner, after seeing several pieces on his grandfather’s side of the table, before coming to stand behind Otabek, whose hand was hovering over a piece. 

He leaned down judging the board, with a serious expression, and the current state of the game while Nikolai frowned. He had taught his grandson how to play chess, because any _good Russian_ should know that much, but he often thought he had taught him too well.

Yuri whispered in Otabek’s ear, (his hand shielding his mouth from view), and his warm breath tickling the brunette’s cheek making the Kazakh’s heart speed up.  He was always a master of being stoic, he hoped more than ever he still was, while in front of Yuri’s grandfather.  The almond eyed teen merely nodded at Yuri’s advice.  Yuri good at chess, who knew?  He was always finding more way to surprise Otabek. 

“ _Yurochka_ ,” Nikolai halfheartedly objected, with a frown, upon seeing his grandson’s grin.

“What kind of host would I be if I let you beat my best friend so easily, Dedushka?”

It warmed the man’s heart to hear his grandson’s statement.  Yuri had never had any childhood friends, nor had he ever had one over for dinner.  The boy had spent most of his time ice skating, playing chess with his grandfather after dinner or playing with a house cat over the years. 

Yet it didn’t warm his heart to see that Yuri’s advice had lost him a valuable position on the board!

NNN

Yuri hugged his grandfather goodnight, he wouldn’t let him go out into the cold and drive them. 

Nikolai gave a warm smile toward his grandson, rubbing his head affectionately and then smiled at the Kazakh. 

“You boys work hard this weekend.”

Yuri nodded in affirmation and then grinned with his typical bravado, “Otabek and I are going to be on that podium in a few days.”  He turned his attention toward the brunette, “Right?”

“That’s the plan,” replied the Kazakh with the slight incline of his lips.  He couldn’t imagine any other outcome, not when Yuri’s soldier eyes brimmed with such promise.

NNN

They walked down the street leading them to the bus stop as Yuri observed,

“Oh shit, I am _so_ full…”

Otabek merely nodded in agreement.  His diet, more like, nonexistent diet, had all been undone by an impulsive blond. 

“ _Yura_ , thanks for today…” he found himself saying, because it had really been quite perfect, their _unspoken_ date.

“Huh?” questioned the Russian, his gloved hands folded behind his head as he glanced toward his companion.

“All I meant was,” he informed, almond eyes softening, “I had a good day with you.”

The Kazakh blinked, as his hood was brought tightly around his face, from the blond pulling on the strings with a bright grin.

“Has the cold gotten to your brain,” he teased, his ocean orbs shining with mirth, “You’re sounding sappy as hell.” 

Yuri couldn’t help but laugh, “ _Otaya,_ you fucking look like one of those teddy bears your fans throw after you skate.”

“And what about you,” remarked his stoic faced friend, “with those ear muffs?”

_Little shit._

Their banter stopped momentarily, Yuri’s hand occupying the strings of the hood and Otabek’s hand resting near the Russian’s cheek. 

Yuri, who wasn’t one to miss a beat, challenged, “What’s wrong with my awesome fashion?”

“Nothing of course,” offered Otabek with a shrug, “it suits you.”

The brunette could see that the younger boy was in good spirits, tugging on the hood’s strings with an accompanying smirk.

NNN

There were only a handful of people on the bus that evening, as they occupied a seat in the back.  Otabek found himself yawning probably brought on by a number of factors including: a full stomach, the warmth from the radiator behind their feet and the rhythmic motion of the bus.  It could also be due to the warmth of the blond sitting next to him. 

“I’ve been thinking…”

The brunette turned his attention toward the Russian, tilting his head slightly as they were already in close proximity. 

“Since we’re not doing _Four Continents_ due to scheduling,” explained Yuri, leaning forward and turning his head to address his companion, “Do you want to come back with me to Saint Petersburg for a few days?”

Almond eyes widened a fraction at the question and he could feel his heart speed up. 

“Unless you have something planned,” added the blond with a shrug, “We probably won’t see each other again until _Worlds.._.”

“I don’t,” honestly replied Otabek, his eyes softening, “so yes.”

“Yeah?” questioned Yuri with a smile.

“Yeah,” the Kazakh’s response made him smile too.

_Worlds_ wasn’t until mid-March and even though distance was a part of their friendship, it seemed to be more daunting with their changing relationship.  Deep down Otabek realized that it was probably going to get worse, but he’d continue to work hard to qualify and follow the Russian in the international circuit, just to have more days like this one.

“After _Worlds_ ,” began the older teen, “you should come to Almaty…”

He gaged Yuri’s expression, the blond appeared to be torn between smirking and pursing his lips in thought.

“Like to meet your family?”

“Well not my _whole_ family,” corrected the Kazakh with a chuckle, “Just a few, and my friends want to meet you too, if you want…”

Yuri looked down for a moment with a nervous expression, “What if they don’t like me?  I mean, I’m not exactly easy to be around.”

“They’ll love you…” whispered his stoic companion.

“Huh?” the blond questioned, he hadn’t quite caught that. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it, _Yura_ ,” offhandedly remarked Otabek, “I can always disown them or—

He heard Yuri scoff in disbelief.

“Or we can take a road trip if they don’t,” he sarcastically continued with a smart ass smirk, “Either way it’s a win/win.”

“Deal,” agreed the Russian with a grin.  

Their hands stayed linked long after they had shaken on it…

NNN

If you enjoyed please review!


	13. Let Me Be With You

Author’s Notes: Thank you for your continued support!  Yes, I am just trash for these dorks in love.

I do not own the songs in this one-shot, they are property of Lindsey Stirling.

NNN

The Short Program results from the previous day were ranked at Otabek taking first, Yuri trailing behind at second and Chris in a strong third position.

Their coaches were hustling them through the busy corridors, past the press and toward the waiting area in preparation for the Free Skate.  There were many skaters the Russian didn’t know, one he was thankful he knew, and one he could have done without—for he was just as _extra_ as Viktor.  Speaking of Viktor, he and Katsudon had gone to compete in the _Four Continents_ , taking place in Taiwan.

Yuri followed Lilia and Yakov through the corridor, earbuds in, hands in the pockets of his track jacket.  When he turned the corner he caught the familiar blue and gold colors and looked up to see Otabek. 

“Davai,” stated the Russian with a grin, extending his fist toward the Kazakh in passing.

The brunette returned the gesture, bumping his fist against Yuri’s, “Davai.”

NNN

Yuri could care less about any of the scores as they came in, but his interest was piqued to see Otabek’s new free skate.  He’d made his way up the stairwell to see the rink monitor.  His best friend didn’t disappoint, with a flawless triple toe right off the bat.

The Russian always felt a swell of pride whenever Otabek skated; the Kazakh was really the fucking coolest person he knew and Yuri was pumped to have Otabek watch his new skate. 

Yuri knew that his best friend was going to get a high score, for it had delivered all the technical requirements with Otabek’s usual determination.  That left Chris skating next, then Yuri’s performance and a skater from Italy to close out the day.

NNN

Otabek was thankful that Chris was skating between him and Yuri, which gave him time to give his usually stoic responses to the press and then make his way to the monitor to view the Russian’s performance.

He recalled their discussion from sightseeing in Moscow…

_“You choreographed your free skate,” questioned the brunette with an interested tone._

_“Yeah,” proudly stated the Russian, holding Otabek’s hand in amongst the crowd of tourists at the square. “I think people will be surprised...”_

_Otabek couldn’t help but squeeze the blond’s gloved hand.  “That’s great, Yura.  I’m sure you’ll be quite the competitor.”_

_Yuri grinned, “I want to see yours too, dumbass…”_

NNN

The speaker system announced, _Yuri Plisetsky of Russia_ , as the stands erupted with cheers and the stomping of feet, causing Otabek to believe that the ceiling may cave in.  He went to the stairwell and made his way to the gate, just as Yuri entered the ice.

The Russian took position in the center of the ice.  His hair half back by two braids, adorned in a white and silver dress shirt embellished with sequins and black pants.

As the monitor streamed that Yuri’s music would be an arrangement featuring Lindsey Stirling’s _Roundtable Rival_ and _Don’t Let This Feeling Fade_ , Otabek was already intrigued to see what the Russian had planned—with a dubstep artist as the basis for his routine.

The moment the guitar and violin hit the speakers, it was as though a bird had taken flight on the ice. 

Otabek’s eyes widened as Yuri went right into attacking a _Quad Lutz, Triple Toe Combo_ , came out of the sequence and soared along the edge of the rink with arms wide and gesturing for the audience’s participation.  This wasn’t last season’s _Rostelecom Cup_ , Yuri now had a solid grip on his foothold in Moscow.

The rink came to life with the music and the audience clapping in time with its gritty beat.  The camera zoomed in on Yuri who held a mischievous smirk before swinging into a serpentine step sequence—his feet emulating the bow of the violin as it races across the strings. 

The music revved up like an engine and as it hit its crescendo the Russian landed a flawless _Quad Toe, Double Toe, Double Loop_.

It was hellishly fast, but the Russian never failed to miss a beat—after all, he was going to face Viktor at _World’s._ He was always finding new ways to push himself further, and this performance was demonstrating that he was in deed a force not a _Grand Prix_ fluke. 

Yakov had been selective on where Yuri and Viktor would perform this season, stoking that competitive fire inside of the younger male, and the results were paying off.

As the song transitioned into its second half, the words rang out across the speakers:

_What really matters in life?_  
Is it a sprint or a marathon?  
And what if finish lines make us happy?  
Or are we glad we can run at all?

The blond demonstrated the _Half Bielimann Spin_ that most male skaters could only dream of harboring that level of flexibility.

__  
Can't fall, when I'm sleep, I'm chasin' a dream  
When I wake up and it's over, what did I gain?

He spun out immediately soaring and launching into a _Triple Axel._

__  
Gain, turn it up, let me hear you live  
Everybody tunes in just to hear you win  
I'ma race to the finish line when I'm done  
I'm worth more than a gold that I never won

Otabek felt his heart alerting him to the adrenaline he was currently experiencing through Yuri’s performance.  It was more than that…

__  
One, one life, one love  
Can't win 'em but lose all the above

_Don't let this feelin' fade_

…it was the emotion behind the skate, and the way Otabek felt proud to be in the same arena with Yuri Plisetsky…a sense of that pride came from knowing that Yuri was an important part of the Kazakh’s life.

_  
Launch into the sky like a private plane_

Rounding the corner with an increase of speed and flying into a _Quad Flip_.  Even Yuri looked surprised that he nailed it in his first ever performance as the crowd responded in earnest, (Yakov and Lilia’s faces as the camera panned to them, looked just as shocked).   

__  
Hang on, we'll ride this wave  
Watch the tide come in a little

Spinning with such speed and intensity that he looked as though he was going to take off.

_Just a little more each day_

And slammed into a pistol pose with the conclusion of the skate, letting his hometown know that he was in deed, the _Ice Tiger of Russia._

_Don't let this feelin' fade_

NNN

Otabek stood on the podium, the flashing cameras blinding and the cameramen’s voices loud and chaotic, instructing them which way to turn, how to angle their medals and other useless information.

Chris was the only willing athlete, turning as instructed, sporting his bronze medal.  He winked and received the desired response from the press. 

Yuri, who always managed to look pissed when in the spotlight, glanced toward Otabek with a small grin.  His gold medal shone brightly against the lights as he leaned toward his best friend.

“As soon as this shit is over with, I want to get dinner, and it’s your turn to buy.”

Otabek tried not to chuckle, “Got it.”

NNN

They sat in Otabek’s hotel room with takeout boxes on the small table while occupying the room’s sofa.  The pair would head to Saint Petersburg tomorrow after the closing ceremonies and as luck would have it, they’d managed to get an entire week off.

At the moment their limbs were experiencing fatigue and the familiar accompanying aches as their muscles relaxed. 

“You were awesome today, _Otaya_ ,” Yuri tiredly informed with a yawn, relaxing deeper into the couch cushion.

“Me?” questioned Otabek, with about as much energy, his eyes half lidded and already fighting sleep, “I should be saying that to you.”

“We were both fucking amazing,” the blond settled that topic, shifting his body in the process and pulling his legs up onto the couch, “I’m taking over your couch.”

“Okay,” the Kazakh easily gave in and then blinked feeling a weight on his lap.  He looked down to find a blonde head of hair resting on top of a pillow, “Make yourself comfortable…” he sarcastically observed.

“I will,” murmured the Russian with a smirk, “You should pull that blanket off the back of the—

“Oh this one?” casually remarked Otabek, looking down at the crumpled blue blanket now covering the younger boy’s face.

Yuri resembled a cat, moving the blanket and trying to bat it off of his head, “Listen _asshole_ …”

“The shit that comes out of your mouth, _Yura_ …” chided the older teen with the click of his tongue.

Otabek let out an _oof_ feeling a jab in his ribs as the Russian caught him off guard, but the gleam in those emerald irises told him what was to come…

NNN

What had ensured was of course, a wrestling match.

Yuri was leaned back against the couch his chest heaving from his laughter, “I win.”

“You’re such a cheater,” breathlessly admitted Otabek, leaning over the blond, his hand resting on the arm of the couch.

The Russian’s eyes closed, “That shit wore me out…I’m sleeping on your couch.”

“You have a room,” Otabek stated the obvious, poking Yuri’s cheek with his index finger for emphasis, “you could sleep there.”

The blond scoffed, “That requires effort,” he made no attempt to move.

Almond eyes narrowed, “Its one floor up.”

“Get my blanket,” murmured the younger teen, eyes still closed, pointing off into the distance.

“The one you balled up and threw across the room,” questioned his stoic companion, hearing an almost inaudible noise escape from Yuri’s lips.  Otabek sighed “You’re like a toddler.”

“Are you going to get the blanket or not, _asshole_?” murmured the Russian with a low chuckle, feeling the Kazakh prod his cheek once again.

“Correction, you’re a _foulmouthed_ toddler,” ascertained the brunette, “You’re really going to sleep there?”

“If you shut the fuck up and retrieve the blanket, I might have a better chance.”

NNN

After a short flight they’d landed in Saint Petersburg just before dark…

Yuri turned the key in the door knob and pushed open the door to his flat.  He walked in wheeling his cheetah print suit case and took off his shoes.  Otabek followed suit with his, boring black, roll behind suitcase. 

The padding of feet was the only warning before the Ragdoll launched itself toward the Russian.  Yuri seemed to possess lightning reflexes, catching Potya in mid jump as the brunette watched the two reunite. 

Blue eyes narrowed toward the Kazakh, when the cat settled on Yuri’s shoulder, with paws seemingly itching to launch an attack.  Potya judged their _uninvited_ guest, while the Russian pulled his suitcase toward his bedroom.

“Make yourself at home,” he offhandedly remarked. 

Potya’s expression, however, stated, _‘Or don’t…’_

NNN

Well, Yuri’s living space was cleaner than the brunette had expected.  It was a small abode with an open space which furnished a futon, coffee table with a laptop, a small entertainment center with a television, and an assortment of media littering the shelves.  Surprisingly enough, there was no exotic patterned wallpaper or framed photos of African cats lining the walls. 

Ahead was a kitchenette with a small sink, refrigerator, stove and countertop.  Also, less cluttered than the Kazakh had expected. 

Otabek could hear Yuri talking to Potya, (aka: the Kazakh’s self-appointed _arch nemesis_ ), in the bedroom as he took off his jacket and had a seat on the futon. He noted the cheetah print blanket draped across its back and smirked.

The older teen had lived in some pretty shitty housing arrangements while traveling in various countries throughout the years, but this one was quite nice.  It was located close to Yuri’s rink and within walking distance to transit. 

Otabek was certain that Yuri’s climbing status in the senior level, coupled by his past performance as a junior, probably gave him an edge when it came to government housing.  Also, rooming with a cat was likely an indication of his status.

Dear God, one week with Yuri…and Potya…this had the makings of a bad Rom-Com written all over it.

NNN

Only after the current food selection had been deemed unfit, did they go out to get groceries.  Well, this wasn’t entirely true, but Otabek believed that they may require more than a mere stash of junk food to sustain them.

They now sat comfortably in lounge pants and sweatshirts criticizing one another while playing video games. 

Yuri bumped his side against Otabek’s with a grin, “You’re going to lose…” he teased.

Otabek watched as his car skidded on the screen and his eyes narrowed in challenge, “Maybe if _someone_ would stop hitting me, I’d do better?”

His companion scoffed, “Nah, you just suck.”

The brunette scowled, “Why did I want to spend a week with you again?”

The younger teen shrugged, “Glutton for punishment?”

“Must be,” conceded Otabek with a smirk, “it’s definitely not your _winning_ personality.”

The Kazakh pushed his elbow against the blond’s side in an attempt to better his chances in the game. 

Yuri gave _as good as he got_ , reaching over and trying to pry Otabek’s controller from his hand.

“Since you suck, I should just take this back,” he provoked with a mischievous grin which reached his ocean colored irises.

The older teen’s usual stoic demeanor was long gone when in the presence of a certain Russian.  Yuri always managed to bring emotions bubbling to the surface. 

He deadpanned in response to his car bursting into flames before turning on his unremorseful companion. 

The blond wasn’t quick enough to flee as Otabek secured his arms around Yuri’s waist and picked him up, causing them both to fall back onto the futon.

“You’re such a _little shit_ ,” fondly stated the almond eyed teen, his brows furrowed as he took in the appearance of his companion.

Yuri sat with a Cheshire cat grin, facing the brunette, sitting on one bent leg.  His hand rested on the Kazakh’s shoulder while Otabek’s arm still occupied his waist. 

Otabek could feel his pulse increasing, falling into pools of emerald green, which seemed to be just as fixated on him.  He couldn’t remember when his stomach had felt as though it were fluttering with this kind of anticipation.  It wasn’t the kind that he felt when he stepped onto the ice, this held a different meaning in its depth.

The brunette’s hand unconsciously reached forward to tuck golden strands behind Yuri’s ear before settling on his cheek.  Now he could see not only one but both of those infamous eyes.

_Oh God…_

He could feel warmth and the softness of Yuri’s cheek in the palm of his hand.  He willed his mind to go blank, to hide the tint of pink that wished to etch itself across his tanned skin, when the blond didn’t recoil from his touch. 

Otabek took a deep breath before leaning in, “ _Yura,_ can I—

Yet as he leaned forward a gray mass morphed into his line of vision. 

The mass, oozed into the picture, (more pointedly in between the now blinking teens), becoming the shape of a Ragdoll who seemed to slide in _slow-motion_ from the back of the futon on its stomach.  Its blue eyes deeming this situation _inappropriate_.

And so it begins…

Potya: 1

Otabek: 0

NNN

Please review if you enjoyed!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Life is Ruff!

Author’s Notes: Good news, I have 3 more ideas in the works, and I don’t really have any time limits on how long this series will be.  Olympics are always inspiring and I’m so happy that Russian Athletes are going!   

I do hope that you continue to enjoy.  My goal as a writer is really to deliver humor, and Otabek and Yuri are just an amazing platform.

(The excerpt comes from How to Live with a Neurotic Dog and is property of Stephen Baker).

NNN

**Life is Ruff!**

NNN

_Why is my phone ringing?!_

His brain was currently screaming, while his hand roamed around for the object emitting such an annoying sound and having jarred him from sleep.

_Pillow…Potya…aa…phone…_

“…Hello…” came an annoyed response, his mouth dry, and the sound muffled into his pillow.

_“Good morning, Yurio!”_

The sing-song voice on the other end of the phone could only be one person…and he happened to be one of Yuri’s least favorite.

The blond currently sprawled out on his bed, face first into his pillow, groaned…

“What the hell do you want?”

He dared to open one eyelid to see the blurry red digits of his clock staring back at him indicating 4:06 AM.

Yuri could hear someone else in the background, followed be an, _“Oh!”_ as some realization must have dawned on Viktor, that Taiwan was 5 hours ahead of Russia.  Yet, the teen begrudgingly listened to the idiot in his ear, grunted his response to the request and then threw himself back into sleep.

NNN

Yuri had awoken, showered and padded out of his bedroom to the kitchen to feed Potya.  He spared a glance at his sleeping guest curled up in the cheetah print blanket and rolled his eyes, if he weren’t still half asleep he’d take a photo for blackmail purposes.

He set to filling the tea kettle with water, as a yawn escaped his lips, and turned on the burner.  The Ragdoll rubbed against his leg and mewed.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he murmured, grabbing a knife from the drawer and the can from the refrigerator. 

NNN

Yuri propped his elbows on the counter, resting his chin in his hands while awaiting the whistle of the tea kettle.  No way was he doing _anything_ for Viktor before he was fully caffeinated. 

Anticipating the shrill of the whistle, he lifted the kettle and turned off the burner.

NNN

Otabek awoke to the smell of spearmint invading his senses.  Spearmint, an herb that is known to be bitter to some, and sweet toward others—fittingly enough, it was also the scent of Yuri’s shampoo. 

Eyelids hesitantly opened, to reveal tired almond irises.  Yet as his eyes focused, he found a familiar patch of hair sitting before him. 

The Russian occupied a spot on the floor, his back resting against the front of the futon, while he scrolled through his social media account on his phone. 

The Kazakh rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyelids to push away the remainder of sleep.  Upon reopening his eyes, he was rewarded with the sight of Yuri’s jade irises.

“Good morning,” he mumbled to the object of his affection.

Yuri held up a white porcelain mug with the picture of a cat on it toward his best friend, “Chai?”

The brunette sat up and took the cup in hand. “Thanks.”

Wasting no time, Yuri got down to business, “The idiot called at 4am to ask me for a favor.”

“From Taiwan?” questioned the Kazakh, trying to wrap his slowly waking brain around the situation.

“Yup,” confirmed the blond with a look of disgust, “his dog’s babysitter isn’t available today and apparently Viktor doesn’t have anyone else to torment, so he wants me to take care of her.”

“Don’t you mean, _us_?” interjected the brunette, watching as Potya rolled over for Yuri to scratch her fluffy belly.

“You can stay here if you want,” offered the Russian. 

Both Otabek and Potya seemed to tense at this statement.  That would mean they would be left alone in an apartment…together…

_Oh hell no._

“I’d like to go with you, _Yura_.”

Yuri shrugged before returning his attention to the Ragdoll as she stretched further, her paws kneading the air in contentment.

NNN

They’d grabbed some toast after Otabek’s shower and then headed to Viktor’s. 

The building was just as ritzy as Otabek had assumed, not as much as Lilia’s, but it still screamed wealth. 

Here they stood in front of Viktor’s front door and this lead to the question,

“He actually gave you a key?”

“Oh hell no,” stated Yuri with the wave of his hand, “He’s just fucking predictable…”

The brunette watched as Yuri lifted the doormat with an accompanied, _Hm._

He then stood, an idea crossing his face, as he pursed his lips in thought.  The blond then reached over the frame of the door, his hand sliding until—

Emerald eyes widened as if saying, _Bingo!_  Revealing the key in hand, as he grinned at his companion.

“He’s…trusting…” surmised Otabek with a frown.

“No, he’s just an idiot and probably locks himself out at least three times a week,” was Yuri’s unsympathetic response.

The Russian hesitantly put the key into the knob and put his ear to the door.

“Prepare yourself.”

The Kazakh’s brows furrowed and with a tone of disbelief, “It’s a dog,” he held a look of amusement on his features, “…who I have met before.”

“You’ve met Makkachin in Hasetsu,” the blond began to reason, “this is going to be entirely different.”  He slowly turned the key in the knob and his breath hitched.

“Yuri, you’re being ridiculous…”

“Okay,” resigned the younger teen with a gesture for the _Hero of Kazakhstan_ to go, “After you.”

Otabek shook his head and opened the door…

NNN

“I’ll just go ahead in,” announced Yuri his voice holding no remorse, “while you lay there…”

The brunette was currently sprawled out on the floor with a rambunctious poodle shaking her hips and tail happily and showing her affection.

“Don’t drown from all the drool, _asshole._ ”

NNN

The dog food hadn’t been too hard to find, Viktor’s refrigerator had a calendar and quite the _To Do List_ on it.

Apparently Makkachin was to eat from pre-made portion controlled containers lining the top shelf of the refrigerator.  Each one, mind you, was labeled by day of the week and time.

Yuri leaned against the marble countertop watching as the poodle consumed her breakfast from a sterling silver dog dish.

Otabek was currently reading _the list_ as he stood in front of the refrigerator with furrowed brows and a serious expression. 

“ _Yura,_ this is an all-day event…”

Thank God he had come along.  He could only imagine how well a day with Potya would have gone, and the thought made him pale.

“Make sure you praise Makkachin for eating all of her meal…”

Yuri rolled his eyes as the Kazakh continued through the list.

“There’s a dog park a few blocks away and the little bags to bring with you are kept under the sink.”

The Russian’s nose scrunched in disgust as the thought entered his mind.

“Oh hell no.  I have to put up with Viktor’s shit on an almost daily basis, I am not cleaning up his dog’s.”

“Maybe she won’t have to go?” offered Otabek, but neither his tone nor his demeanor looked too hopeful.

Yuri tossed the bags to the brunette, who deadpanned as he caught them.  He took notice of the little packet of hand sanitizer attached, while the blond took the leash in hand.

“Yeah, maybe?”

Silly boys, obviously had never owned a dog.

NNN

“How’s it going back there?” questioned the emerald eyed teen, currently keeping his back to the entire situation while holding the leash in hand.

His companion’s response didn’t sound too positive.  It sounded rather ground out and a tad queasy, “You want to turn around and find out?”

“Nope,” came a curt response.

_Yeah, dog park…my ass!  More like side of the road in front of traffic!_

Otabek was certain that he would never again lose a battle of _rock, paper, scissors_.  Yuri just couldn’t let them go best 2 out of 3…

“We’re still friends, right?”

Almond eyes narrowed toward the back of the Russian, “That depends…are you going to carry the bag?”

“Well,” with the inclination of his head, Yuri seemed to ponder these words, “It was nice knowing you, _Otaya_ ,” his tone was sincere. “We had some good times, _me_ kicking _your_ ass at competitions…and you, running from fans with me.”

The Kazakh grit his teeth, “You’re lucky I don’t throw this at you, you know that?”

NNN

Things seemed to be looking up now that the worst was behind them and had been deposited into the receptacle at the dog park. Yuri had even bought the Kazakh a hot drink from a nearby vendor as a peace offering.

Well until a red squirrel came along…

NNN

The squirrel ran for its life, the poodle frolicked for the sake of enjoyment in quest of the squirrel, Yuri cursed as his arm was nearly ripped from its socket as his drink went flying upwards, and Otabek deadpanned feeling like he was _always_ going to be pursuing Yuri in some comical endeavor. 

NNN

Then came the ice, the snowbank and the limp leash in hand as Yuri and Otabek peeked over the snow bank to find the poodle running off in the distance.

Their eyes widened, their jaws dropping and they simultaneously murmured, “Oh shit!”

For there went Viktor Nikiforov’s fur child…

NNN

The two shuffled like a pair of penguins with a mantra of _shit, shit, shit_ as they moved across the icy field chasing after Makkachin.  International figure skaters, finding ice to be an obstacle—life was ironic, no?

In their slide downhill and out of the dog park, Yuri grabbed onto a fence post and reached for Otabek’s hand before the Kazakh could slide into oncoming traffic. 

NNN

They’d traipsed through most of this district of Saint Petersburg in search of the poodle. 

“Viktor’s going to fucking kill me…” seriously stated the blond, his face held a grim expression.

“You can move to Almaty and enter a witness protection program,” suggested Otabek, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I might have to,” replied Yuri with a sigh, “Where the hell would a dog go?”

They both were trying to figure out the workings of a dog’s mind when Yuri’s phone rang.

“Oh God…” whined the Russian, looking panic-stricken and turning his phone toward his companion, “its Viktor!”

“You going to answer it?” questioned his normally stoic companion with a grimace.

Yuri took a deep breath and answered the call, “Yes, Viktor?”

Otabek watched as the blond bit his lower lip with a few noncommittal sounds in response to the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m actually out walking your dog right now…” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “She likes to go where?” 

The Kazakh watched as emerald orbs shown with hope.

“Don’t worry about it, you old geezer. I’ll make sure she doesn’t go there…uh huh…”  He started gesturing frantically for Viktor to get off the fucking phone so he could share this information. “Okay…yup…mmhmm…досвидания (dosvidaniya).”

NNN

They were soon headed toward a street lined with food carts and nearly all of the vendors knew of Makkachin.  Now they knew why the poodle was on a portion controlled diet.

“Yuri, according to the vendor down the street she was here about 20 minutes ago,” informed Otabek who then blinked toward his companion.

Yuri, holding two sandwiches in hand, saw his best friend’s expression and narrowed his eyes, “What? One of these shawarma is for you,” he held out the meat wrap and bit into his own, “I’m not starving to death in the meantime,” he spoke around the mouthful of food.

Apparently neither was the Kazakh as he eagerly took and bit into the offered wrap. 

Self-preservation is what sets apart the strong from the weak after all.

NNN

They were glad to have those wraps in their stomachs when their prey came into view from across the street.  She was currently bumming an elderly woman’s pastry. 

“Light change….fucking change!” fumed the blond, willing the light to do his bidding, as he watched the poodle in between the moving vehicles passing at the intersection.

Even Otabek seemed amped to get the dog and head back inside, it was fairly cool today and his fingers and toes were starting to protest. 

Just before the light changed, the poodle seemed to sense their presence…

“Don’t you dare,” the Russian ground out, glaring daggers toward Makkachin.

_The game is afoot!_

NNN

Well they finally found her and wished she wasn’t such an affectionate dog.

“Oh my God,” Yuri practically gagged, “What the hell did you roll in?”

He was trying to keep Makkachin at arm’s length as she wiggled happily.  She looked rather proud of herself, what a great game she had played today with her friends.

Otabek had his scarf pulled up over his nose to hide his disdain and the wave of nausea that threatened to hit.

It was going to take a bit to get back to Viktor’s apartment since they’d traipsed through most of the district.  Yet they needn’t worry as people readily parted to like the Red Sea to allow them and their smelly companion access down the street.

NNN  

Yuri was currently rummaging through the cabinets in Viktor’s bathroom looking for dog shampoo while Otabek was running interference (aka: keep Makkachin off the furniture).

“Find it yet, _Yura_ ,” came the Kazakh’s voice from the living room.

“Fucker has a cream and a lotion for just about everything…”

A string of Russian swears rang out with the slamming of a cupboard door.

“What happened?” questioned Otabek peering around the corner and seeing Yuri’s bright red face.

“Wrong fucking cabinet…” he mumbled in half embarrassment and half anger, dragging his hand over his face. 

There were just some containers that can’t be unseen. 

NNN

Finally dog shampoo was in hand, the bath water had been drawn and Otabek was given the okay to bring in the smelly hound.

_First, tell your dog that cleanliness is next to godliness while carrying her to the bath._

“You have to pick her up,” ordered the blond with a shrug.

“Are your arms broken,” questioned the Kazakh with a challenging look.

“She fucking stinks,” whined Yuri with a look of disgust.

“A fact I haven’t failed to notice,” observed the brunette with a glare.

Makkachin sat on the floor beside the two bickering teens and yawned.

 

_Place her in the tub._

“Fine,” grumbled Yuri, “we’ll both fucking do it…”

_Use force if she resists._

Otabek deadpanned as he held his half of the smelly dog…why was he always on the rear end of these arrangements?

“C’mon Makkachin, don’t be an ass like your owner,” the blond tried to coax her into the tub. 

_If you slip and fall into the water, get out and continue as if nothing happened._

Yuri’s eyes were wide with alarm as he now sat in a tubful of water soaking into his clothes. 

Otabek damn near burst out laughing in response as Makkachin jumped into the tub with the Russian.

_Scrub her thoroughly, sparing no effort._

“You could hold her,” teased the Kazakh with a smirk as he set to work with a soapy sponge while the blond glared from his position under the dog in the tub.

_Use a towel if you get wet._

The brunette had leaned forward to apply more shampoo to the poodle when his hand slipped.

Yuri’s emerald eyes widened in amusement as he watched Otabek slide face first into the Jacuzzi styled tub. 

Oh karma was a bitch…

_Keep talking to her in a low soothing voice._

“What a good girl you are,” Yuri provoked, watching as a brown head of hair resurfaced.  Oh his companion looked less than thrilled by this arrangement after the dog had dragged him into _tub time_.

_Explain that soap is to cleanse, not to eat._

“Oi, don’t eat the soap!” exclaimed the Russian, trying to wrangle the bar of soap from the poodle’s mouth—she looked rabid from the froth forming around the edges of her jaw, “If Viktor’s starving you, I’ll give you more food!”

Otabek let out an _oof_ as Makkachin’s ass slammed into his chest in response to the game of tug of war and numerous bottles of shampoo and body wash fell from the shelf and into the water.

_Refreshed from the bath and glad that it’s all over, dog will want to work off pent up energy._

The poodle leapt from the tub and showed her appreciation for being clean by shaking and spraying the two teens. 

_Encourage her to roam around the house for a bit, to be herself._

No encouragement was needed as she bolted from the bathroom, leaving a trail of water in her wake, while the two teens sat and contemplated this turn of events.

They both resembled a pair of drowned rats…hair clinging to faces, soaked clothing and a sea of dog hair and suds in the water.

_For rub a dub dub, Otayuri in a tub._

NNN

They both occupied a cushion of the couch.  The poodle, exhausted from her adventures, was curled up on her dog bed.

They had found microwave popcorn in one of Viktor’s cupboards and were currently watching the Men’s short program from Four Continents…

Yuri threw popcorn toward the TV screen as JJ gave his signature move, and the poodle happily reached to retrieve the food.

“God, he’s such a douche bag,” grumbled the blond with a glare, “and know who else ranks right up there?”

“Viktor?” asked Otabek, already knowing quite well the answer to that question, taking a handful of popcorn.

“Exactly,” moaned Yuri, “fucking idiot…”

For they had found more than just microwave popcorn…

As they sat in their matching pink bathrobes while waiting for their clothes to finish drying.

For the sake of their dignity, this day would never be spoken of again…

NNN

Please review if you enjoyed!


	15. Hijinks and Happiness

 

NNN

“Oi, Viktor?!”  The tiger’s voice rang out through the empty corridor, “Where the hell is that bastard?”

He’d even re-read the text message on his phone to double check the address…

NNN

_Earlier…_

The rest of the week had gone without issue—broken diets and binged series on Netflix, but those were to be expected.  Otabek was down to his last two days with Yuri and then it would be _World’s_ when next they’d meet.

Potya hadn’t lost her resolve at minimizing any and all romantic intent in her household.  The Ragdoll currently occupied a seat on the arm of the futon, pawing toward Yuri.  The blonde was leaned against the Kazakh with the cheetah print blanket wrapped around them, each with an ear bud in.

“I like this one,” commented Yuri with a nod, “are you going to add it to a set?”

Otabek noted how the Russian seemed to lean into him as he spoke and took the opportunity to snake his arm around the teen’s shoulders.  He scrolled through the playlist on his phone and stated, “Yeah…I’ve been toying with this one too.”

Potya eagerly waved her paw, trying to get _her_ boy’s attention. 

The brunette shot her a look, _‘Give me a break, cat.’_

Blue eyes narrowed in challenge as if saying, _‘Like hell.  He’s mine!’_

Yuri gained his attention once again with his question, “what’s this one called?’ He pointed to his best friend’s phone, its text in Kazakh.

Otabek shifted his arm, drawing the younger teen closer, “This one?” 

Yeah, he knew damn well _which one_ the emerald eyed teen had meant, but he was up against Potya Plisetsky, he needed to up his game.

Yuri hummed his answer and didn’t seem to mind being drawn closer into the Kazakh’s embrace.  He loved listening to new music and he believed his best friend’s to be the coolest.  

“It doesn’t have a name yet,” simply stated the brunette, sparing a glance at the blond’s content face, “What would you call it?”

Yuri pursed his lips in thought and then grinned, “ _Otaya_ because it’s fucking cool like you.”

Otabek’s pulse jumped in response to those words, and he could feel his face heating up.

_I love him._

Before the Kazakh could spend another thought on the topic, Yuri’s phone vibrated and he leaned forward to retrieve it from the coffee table. 

**Katsudon:** Yurio, Viktor and I are back in Russia.

**Yuri:** You want a medal or something?  Maybe you need one since you gave up gold to that shithead?

**Katsudon:** JJ deserved that medal…

**Yuri:** I’m blocking your number.

Otabek looked over the blond’s shoulder and smirked.

**Katsudon:** Wait! Before you do, Viktor and I want to take you out for lunch to thank you for taking care of Makkachin!

**Yuri:** I’m busy, Buta.  Hanging out with Otabek.

**Katsudon:** He’s invited too of course!

The Russian let out a sigh and turned his head to gage his companion’s expression.

“You want free food?” he questioned with the arch of an eyebrow.

The Kazakh didn’t really want to give up his alone, (minus Potya—who had weaseled her way toward the Russian’s lap), time with Yuri but after the events from the dog sitting fiasco they could use some compensation.

“We’re not letting Katsuki drive us,” he deadpanned, recalling the summer on the freeway incident.

“Yeah,” groaned Yuri, “need to make it to World’s alive and kick their asses.”

**Yuri:** Whatever. Pick a time and place. Send me the address, we’ll meet you.

NNN

That’s exactly what had happened too. After they figured that maybe Viktor and Katsuki were already inside, they’d gone in the side door, where they had seen a line of people disappear into not ten minutes before.

The blond was becoming annoyed, this didn’t look like a restaurant.  It was more like a long vacant hallway in a shitty location, he didn’t even hear people or smell food.  Having no reception on his phone didn’t help his mood any.

Otabek gaged his best friend’s expression and the traces of his ever growing annoyance. 

“Maybe there’s an upstairs?”

As if on cue the sound of feet running from above jarred them as they instinctively looked upward. 

“C’mon, looks like there’s a door up ahead,” encouraged the Kazakh, tilting his head in the direction, before starting toward the door.

Yuri shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and followed after the brunette. 

Half way there the lights flickered, causing both teens to pause as the hallway blurred in front of them, and the crackling sound from the fluorescent lights filled their ears.

“What the fuck?” asked Yuri with a tone of disbelief before the lights went out completely leaving the teens completely in the dark.

“Maybe someone forgot to pay the bill?” inquired Otabek with a flat tone. 

_Where the hell are we?_

“Holy shit!” roared the tiger, “something just touched me!”

Yuri jumped, slamming into his companion, who barely got out an expletive before being blinded by the flashlight of Yuri’s phone.

Otabek held his hand in front of his eyes in defense, squinting against the offensive light and watched as the Russian suspiciously moved the light in all directions trying to locate the offender. He was growling about someone _fucking with them_.

“Yuri, maybe—

Yet Otabek wasn’t meant to finish that thought, since something plowed in between them and he went stumbling into the wall as the flashlight’s beam shot erratically around the hall.  Yuri swore, his back finding the nearby wall…which didn’t seem too sturdy—

The lights flickered eerily as Otabek shook his head and then found the Russian’s discarded phone on the ground…but not its owner…

He deadpanned at this turn of events, now finding himself _alone_ in a rundown building with faulty lighting.

_Oh hell…_

The Kazakh came up with the following conclusions.

One: This may be an elaborate kidnapping ploy put on by _Yuri’s Angels_

OR

Two: Viktor and Katsuki didn’t really mean to send them here.

He called the Russian’s name because unless bound and gagged, he knew that Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t known for being discreet—outside of his stealth skills when it came to fans.

“Oi, Otabek?!” came the desired response, as the brunette let out a sigh of relief.

He put his palms on the wall, apparently the _latest_ obstacle between them and face faulted.

“Yuri,” his tone laced with his exasperation, “how in hell did you get in there?”

“Like I know, you _asshole_!” whined the punk, “Its fucking dark in here! Do you have my phone?”

Leave it to Yuri to pull a scene out of _Scooby Doo_ and worry more about his phone than the fact he was alone, in the dark, behind a makeshift wall.

Otabek felt along the wall, shaking his head in disbelief, because who was going to believe this shit?

“Give me a second,” he said with a sigh, “I’m trying, you _little shit_.”

Ah yes, normal couples have terms of endearment like _darling, sweetheart or babe_...but not these two idiots…

“What the fuck was that?” Yuri’s question held a hint of nervousness.

“You got a mouse in there with you?” teased the Kazakh, knocking on the wall trying to find a catch. 

“Holy shit!” came the Russian’s voice in alarm.

 Now he was the one whose voice held alarm as he called the teen’s name, “Yuri?”

There came a thud, a slam against the wall and the Kazakh’s eyes widened, feeling the impact against the palm of his hands as he jump backwards.   

Without a second thought he rammed his shoulder into the wall, pushing all of his weight into it and fell inward.

Light poured into the enclosure as Otabek recovered, standing defensively, unsure what he might encounter. 

It looked like a scene from one of those shitty horror movies he and Yuri were always watching…like some madman’s torture chamber with various tools on the shelves of the wall and were those cages?

His heart stopped pounding when he saw the blond perched on top of a cage and the form of his would be assailant KO’d on the floor.

Yuri squinted from the dim light created by the doorway, before nimbly hopping over the masked man and toward Otabek.

“Jesus, _Yura_ …” breathed the Kazakh, pulling the younger teen forward and into his embrace, “you scared the hell out of me.”

“You?” bitched the blond, feeling Otabek’s arms around his shoulders, as his temper started to deflate, “That fucker came up behind me and tried to grab me…”

The brunette scowled, looking down at the guy who like two times the size of the Russian and sighed.  Thank God, Yuri Plisetsky was more than just a pretty face.

“…So I totally kicked _his_ ass.”

Yuri sounded proud of his accomplishment.

“You sure did,” he observed, giving the blond an extra squeeze.

NNN

“Well that explains a lot…” stated Yuri with just as much emotion as one would put into commenting about the weather.  He poked the masked man’s side with the toe of his shoe.

Otabek stood up, dropping the name tag from his hand.  “I don’t think Maxim’s waking up any time soon…”

“Serves him right,” Yuri’s voice held no remorse, “Sleep well, shithead.”

The blond tapped his chin in thought, “I’ve heard of these kinds of places.  People get locked in and have to find their way out before a timer goes off.”

The brunette deadpanned, “Looks like we walked into _Horror Quest_ according to his name badge.”

NNN

They walked into the next section, their fingers laced together looking for clues of how to open the next door.    

Yuri cringed at the room full of dolls...with their beady eyes…why was it never a room full of cats?

They both jumped and swore at the creep who lunged forward, dressed like a doll, from the huge ass pile in the middle of the room…

But no one got knocked out in this room...

NNN

Meanwhile…

Viktor and Katsuki had been waiting outside of the restaurant for over an hour.

“Do you think he forgot?” questioned the Japanese man, occupying a seat on the bench in the indoor waiting area.

Viktor looked around and deeming that neither Yuri nor Otabek were in sight shrugged, “You sent him the address, right?”

“I did…and I even called…but his phone went straight to voice mail…”

Viktor was about to just call it quits and go inside when he heard his Yuuri give a cry in alarm.

“Oh no…” Katsuki was beside himself, “my phone autocorrected the street address…”

The silver haired man, peeked over his fiancée’s shoulder and blinked, “That’s on the other side of town.  In fact, I’ve never even been there.”

The Japanese man had visions of Yuri and Otabek lost in an unfamiliar place, in a shady part of town.  Thank God it wasn’t dark!  He raked his fingers through his hair as his anxiety peaked after using Google Maps to scope out the area.

NNN

Well after being startled by a girl who leapt forward through a picture frame, jumped by a guy with a meat cleaver and laughed at by a clown, the couple had managed to make it out. 

Yuri stood on the doorstep, shaking his head that was the weirdest adventure yet.

Otabek sighed, dangling the little ax shaped keychain with its _Horror Quest_ logo in hand. 

The Russian pulled his phone out of his pocket and found several text messages coming through each with a ping.

**Katsudon:** Are you coming?

**Katsudon:** Are you two alright? 

**Katsudon:** OMG!  Yurio, where did my phone send you?! 

**Katsudon:** Viktor and I are coming to find you!!! 

And the last one, as it just came through…

**Katsudon:** _(horrified emoji)_ We can’t find you!!!!

Yuri was just starting to text his snippy response when they heard…

_“Viktor, they’re over here!!!!”_

NNN

Yuri had demanded an appetizer, not one, but _two_ meals and dessert for all the shit Katsudon’s stupidity had put them through.

The blond seemed pretty content, carrying a bag of leftovers back to his home.  Otabek was too polite to make a fuss, but he’d stated that the Kazakh deserved equal treatment.  The older teen didn’t look like his conscience was weighed down by the bag in his own hand.  

NNN

By the time dinner arrived, Otabek was pretty happy that Yuri wasn’t a _cheap date_. 

“That’s mine,” halfheartedly objected the Kazakh, watching as the blond stuffed a piece of Knish in his mouth.

Yuri chewed thoughtfully and found something to offer.  He held out a pelmeni on his fork as a peace offering. 

Almond eyes narrowed at the dumpling, “Yeah you better offer me something…” but he leaned forward nevertheless and accepted.

NNN

“So is the name of this show, _Yuri on Revolution: Us versus Them_?”

“Exactly!”

“Things might not go the way you want them to, _Yura_.”

The look on Yuri’s face said that this was the wrong answer.

“There’s no reason we can’t both be on the podium at World’s,” was his haughty response.

“Actually, Viktor, Katsuki, JJ, to name a few of those reasons…”

Emerald eyes shown with annoyance, “Are you trying to piss me off, _Otaya_?”

Otabek sighed, Yuri was so passionate about skating, that sometimes he forgot that the other skaters actually _did_ pose a problem to his vision. 

The blond sat cross legged on the couch facing him with a glare, “JJ’s a shithead, and we can take him down.”

Almond eyes looked upward, his little soldier was going to go through his mission details.  He turned sideways to face the younger teen and to hear the strategy.

“Alright, so we take JJ out,” he reiterated, propping his bent arm on the back of the couch and resting his chin in his hand.  “We still have Katsuki _and_ Viktor.”

“Your jumps are stronger than Katsudon’s,” assessed the blond, “The only disadvantage you have is that his moves are showier because he idolizes that geezer.”  He stuck out his tongue and grimaced.

The brunette arched an eyebrow, “Your jumps are strong and your moves are more impressive.”

Yuri grinned with that familiar bravado, “I didn’t say you’d beat _me_.  I said you’d beat Katsudon.”

Otabek actually scoffed, “And you’re going to beat us all?  Viktor included?”

There was no hesitation in Yuri’s response and his eyes were sharp, “I am.”

_The eyes of a soldier…_

He knew that Yuri hated having only beaten Katsuki at last year’s GPX by less than a point.  Otabek also knew the press had been pitting him against Viktor with the upcoming competition in Milan.

“You know, _Yura_ ,” began the brunette with much sincerity, “whether you beat Viktor at World’s or not, doesn’t really matter…”

“Huh?!” exclaimed the Russian with a look of annoyance, automatically on guard.

Otabek sighed and held up a hand in defense, “What I mean is, you’re still Yuri- _fucking_ -Plisetsky.  You’re still one of the greatest figure skaters in the world.”

And just like that Yuri’s mood had shifted, as he arched an eyebrow. “Are you mocking me?”

The Kazakh glared, “Of course not.”

His voice held no room for argument as the blond nodded and pursed his lips.

“You know how I feel about y—

Almond eyes widened as he sits momentarily frozen.  The older teen’s brain having stopped briefly, as realization hit, that Yuri’s lips had seized his own.

The outcome of asking for Yuri’s friendship had been uncertain.

Falling in love with the Russian and having his feelings be reciprocated had been a gamble.

Yet kissing the teen with those infamous jade eyes, now that was dangerous.

The Kazakh wholeheartedly returned the kiss and closed his eyes.  He could feel Yuri’s warm lips turn upward indicating a smile, before he brought his hand to cradle the blond’s cheek. 

Otabek knew that his racing heart was a good thing; it meant he hadn’t crashed and burned yet.  He also knew that there possibly should be some hint of embarrassment, since he was older and Yuri had initiated the kiss. However, that seemed of little relevance in the moment.

It was just enough.

Just enough to feel the Russian’s breath mingling with his own.

Just enough to place a hand on his hip and pull Yuri closer to deepen the kiss.

Just enough when the blond responded and Otabek felt a gentle hand on the back of his head.

And when they finally broke apart, their foreheads touching, eyes remaining closed, and slowly regaining their breath…

Otabek knew that he would never give up on being with Yuri Plisetsky.

NNN

Please review if you enjoyed!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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	16. Shoot Me Down

Author’s Notes: Loving the team event for the Olympics this week!  Skating is all about the highs and lows of the performance and the drive to continue if it goes to hell.

The next segment will follow these ups and downs as our favorite pair works toward World’s.  This will be a 3 part journey with a short introduction…

NNN

Two weeks since returning home and he’d already taken a nasty fall while upping the technical requirements of his free skate.

**Yura:** How’s your knee? 

**Otabek:** Still attached…

**Yura:** You can work on your artistry while you wait?

**Otabek:** Good idea.  How is your program?

**Yura:** Hell. Feels like I’m living off of water and gruel. Gotta get back to practice.

**Otabek:** I feel your pain.  Good luck.

**Yura:** Going to need it. Yakov’s in a shitty mood. Later.

NNN

The third week had taken its toll on Yuri.  Fucking Viktor and Katsudon got the better practice schedule and it’d been unbelievably cold walking to the bus stop at a later hour.  Normally the Russian would have just walked but not this week, he believed they might find him frozen to the pavement if he dared.

He and Otabek hadn’t Skyped due to their conflicting schedules, but as he boarded the bus and took a seat he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He breathed into the side of his hand, trying to warm his half frozen fingers. 

**Otaya:** You still alive?

**Yuri:** Barely.  Fucking geezer and his pig get special treatment while I am miserable.

**Otaya:** That’s rough.  How are you feeling?

**Yuri:** Cold. Tired. Angry. Hungry. 

**Otaya:** Wow. Cold and tired above your anger and hunger? You must be dying.

**Yuri:** I haven’t felt well all week. 

**Otaya:** Are you home yet?

**Yuri:** Will be in about 10 minutes.  Why are you up so late?

**Otaya:** Just scouting out the competition…

**Yuri:** Thanks, asshole.  Have a good night.

**Otaya:** Don’t mention it, you little shit.

NNN

Week four and Otabek was certain there wasn’t a spot left on his legs that wasn’t bruised.  Operation: _Yuri on Revolution_ was getting harder.  He’d seen a segment on Viktor which had hit the sports networks earlier in the week.  Being out of competitive skating for a year hadn’t slowed him down.  The Russian’s confidence and the powerful jumps he exhibited were evidence enough. 

He sat idly tapping his phone.  _His_ Russian must be in practice still, as he looked at its silent screen and the unanswered text message.

Their communication had suffered greatly since he left Saint Petersburg.  It was to be expected since they were both athletes and their careers came before their friendship…

The Kazakh brought a hand to his lips in memory.  That one kiss had been enough to damn near cancel all thought, and Otabek could still feel the emotions that it had produced. 

NNN

A little while before bed he got a response…

**Yura:** I’m fucking dying.  I’ve got the plague.

**Otabek:** Have you been to a doctor?

**Yura:** I can’t even get a moment to myself, let alone see a doctor.

Otabek frowned, furrowing his brows in the process as he began to type his response, but saw his phone lit up with an incoming call…

“Hey,” he began after accepting the call. 

“…Hey…” came a tired voice. 

Otabek winced, “You’re really that bad off?”

“I can’t even fucking type…let alone move…”

“You need to see a doctor,” suggested the brunette, “can you go tomorrow?”

“I have morning practice,” groaned the tired Russian, “if I can just get through it then I can sleep the entire weekend.”

It wasn’t like Yuri to sound so defeated, as he listed his symptoms.  They both agreed it was probably the start of the flu. 

“Tell me about your new program…” the younger teen inquired from miles away.

Otabek leaned back in his bed and looked up at the ceiling, “Well I took your advice and have worked on my artistry.”

“Yeah?” he did sound interested, even if he was half asleep.

“I remember you telling me that I had to beat Katsuki’s _showier_ moves.” 

“And your knee?”

“It’ll be okay,” he commented with a smile, “Swelling is down.  I’ll be back to jumping next week.”

“That’s great, _Otaya._ ”

“Are you making progress with your program?  I know you’re not feeling well right now…”

“Yeah…I’ve added some more technical elements…if I land most of them tomorrow, maybe Yakov will let me go home early and die?”

“If you don’t die this weekend, do you want to Skype on Sunday?  I have a gig on Saturday night.”

He waited for Yuri’s response and then came the tired voice, “That would be great.  Are you going to use the mix you shared with me?”

The Kazakh could feel his face warm recalling Yuri’s words about how it was _fucking cool like you_. 

“Yeah it’s in the set,” he casually remarked.

“It’s awesome…people are going to love it,” he announced with a yawn, “I’ll talk to you on Sunday, okay?”

“Sure.  Night, _Yura._ ”

The brunette ended the call and placed the phone on his nightstand before shutting off the light.

NNN

Oh a morning practice might not have been in his best interest after all.  There was no amount of water or protein bars or Advil in the world that could touch his pounding headache and the feeling of unease in his stomach.

It was too late to run after the bus and jump back in bed with Potya that morning because his coach had already caught sight of him. 

Yuri leaned down lacing his first skate and tried to focus.  If he could just make it through half of his practice, then Yakov would send him home early. 

At least it was just the two of them…fairly quiet until Yakov began barking at him about his sloppy leg and his weak arms…

NNN

By the time morning break came, the teen was feeling worse.  His body felt heavy and he had to shake his head a few times to maintain his focus.  He took another swig of water and glanced at the clock.

_Oh today is going to suck…_

NNN

Otabek collected his things from his locker and sat on the bench to lace his sneakers.  He was going up against the best at Worlds, and whether or not his knee agreed, he needed to push himself.  The Kazakh would ice just as soon as he got home, but for now, at least he had the weekend off. 

A gig was always a good way to refocus his thoughts and there was something invigorating about being a DJ. 

NNN

Yakov was bitching…

Yuri knew he would be.  His leg was sloppy.  His arms were weak.  His timing was all wrong. 

_Blah, Blah, Blah…_

His head was spinning. 

He had fallen behind on most of the movements by the 4th hour and was surprised he hadn’t just blown up at his coach and told Yakov to go _fuck himself_ because he was going home.  Yuri knew he couldn’t do that…he was going up against Viktor, Katsudon and that shithead JJ in another month. 

The emerald eyed teen let out of a sigh gearing up for Yakov’s speech as he skated over to the side where his frustrated coach was standing.  He was about to just call it quits when movement caught his eye from the entryway. 

_Why is he here?_

“Ah, Yakov, Yurio!” came a sing song voice.

Yuri’s eyes narrowed, looking over toward the happy-go-lucky idiot, “Not my name, moron.”

“Ah, sorry,” he didn’t sound apologetic, “Koneko-chan.”

Viktor either didn’t notice or he didn’t care to notice the intensity of Yuri’s glare.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?” questioned Yakov, checking his watch, “You’re practice isn’t scheduled for another few hours.”

“Oh don’t mind me…”

_Kind of hard not to when you announce yourself like an idiot._

The silver haired man waved as he walked past them with bag in hand off to apparently sharpen his skates.

“He couldn’t do that before his own practice?” asked the blond with a scoff.

“I’ve stopped trying to understand Viktor’s ways over the years,” informed the older man, crossing his arms over his chest, “Now about _your_ practice…”   

NNN

“Go away, Viktor…” groaned Yuri, watching as Viktor seemed to be having an animated conversation with their coach on the sidelines.

Well, Viktor’s movements were animated…Yakov’s looked as though he was enduring the conversation for the sake of being polite.

_At least Yakov said I could go home after this.  One more jump and then I’m sleeping until Sunday…_

NNN

Last night had been a good turnout at the club.  Yuri had been right, his new mix had been a hit, but he’d played an hour longer than expected and by the time Otabek had gotten into bed his body was screaming. 

It was now afternoon as Otabek looked up from the computer screen and removed his headphones, seeing his phone lit up.  An incoming call from Viktor of all people?

Well this probably involved Yuri, as the blond’s birthday was only two weeks away. 

_Viktor and Katsuki must have something in mind…_

With a sigh, he told himself not to answer because he was probably going to be roped into something as a co-conspirator.  Against his better judgment and for the sake of politeness he answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Otabek?  This is Viktor.”

The brunette refrained from stating the obvious, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Is now an okay time to talk?”  There was a pause on the line. “You’re not busy or out somewhere are you?”

“Yeah, now’s fine.  Why?” wondered the Kazakh fiddling with a disc in his hand, the phone resting between his shoulder and cheek.

“It’s about Yuri…”

Otabek rolled his eyes, _No Shit._

He humored the living legend anyways, “Okay? What about Yuri?”

_It’s his birthday…has to be.  Yuri’s going to flip if Viktor proposes something lame…_

“Has Yuri complained to you about being sick?”

The teen suddenly noticed that Viktor sounded stuffed up and his voice a little strained.

“Uh actually…” he began, visions of Yuri spreading the plague around the rink coming to mind, “Yuri thought he was coming down with the flu.”

“Was he dizzy?  Feeling tired?  Pounding headache?”  prompted the voice on the line.

“All of those,” Otabek stated, a matter-of-factly. 

Yuri had taken out himself and the competition with a flu bug, which was one way to even the odds.  The whole team was probably now on bedrest due to the stubborn blond. 

Viktor seemed to be talking to someone else and confirming what the Kazakh had stated.

“Otabek,” his voice seemed sincere, “I want you to know that Yuri fell at practice on Friday.”

_Oh shit._

He stopped playing with the disc in hand and sighed.  Great, between his knee and now Yuri falling? 

He didn’t really want to ask but he had to, “What did he break?”

Yuri was going to be a bitch to talk with tonight.  Luckily they still had six weeks until Worlds…

“He didn’t break anything…” announced Viktor.

_Thank God.  He’s probably just banged up._

Viktor was already speaking before Otabek’s thoughts could continue, “Otabek?”

He’d been around Yuri too much, he was starting to ignore people.

“Yeah, sorry,” apologized the brunette.

“I said,” there was a long drawn out sigh, “Yuri came out of a quad and he lost his footing…”

Otabek winced and shook his head, leaning back into his chair.  He knew how high Yuri’s quads were and depending on the angle of his rotation, his side was going to be sore.

“…And….”

Almond eyes widened as the phone slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor, jarring him from his thoughts.  He leaned forward, fumbling and picked up the phone.

“Wh-What?”  his own voice sounded foreign, as he sat hunched over with his elbows propped on his thighs and gripped the phone in hand, the other holding his head. 

The voice on the other line wasn’t Viktor, “Otabek, its Katsuki Yuuri…”

His brain was trying to go from Russian to English, surely he had misunderstood…

“Viktor just needs a moment,” stated the calm Japanese man, but even his voice was a little shaky as it came across the line, “Just stay on the line alright?”

The Kazakh merely nodded and then it registered that Katsuki couldn’t see him and he merely hummed his response.

After another minute, a heart pounding and gut wrenching one, Viktor was back.

 “Yuri slammed head first into the side board…”

His world was spiraling in slow motion…

His pulse echoing in his ears…

 “…And there was a lot of blood from the impact.”

_In his mind’s eye all he could see was the face of the confident Russian who had the eyes of a soldier, taking hold of his hand in Barcelona…_

“Yakov and I were with him but…” another shaky breath and his voice full of remorse, “he’s got swelling on the brain…”

_…And Yuri’s smiling face on that first day of their journey…_

“…and our little _Koneko-chan_ has been in a coma since Friday.”

NNN

Please review!


	17. I'll Find a Way Home

Author’s Notes: So I totally had ugly tears when Yuzuru Hanyu took Gold at the Olympics last night.  The bonus was that Javier Fernandez, (who calls Yuzu his _skate wife_ ), got Bronze and since they are known to have an epic bromance it was a fan girl’s dream.

Back to the drama this week…as life continues without Yuri…

NNN

The road of an athlete is a hard path.  It’s filled with highs and lows, knowing that when you hit the ground you have to keep getting up.

Athletes were known to have injuries during the course of their competitive seasons.  It wasn’t uncommon for figure skaters to have the same coach, nor was it uncommon for competitive adversaries to become friends during the galas and banquets.  Perhaps it was more unlikely that two competitors would become best friends and later begin dating…

There wasn’t anything the Kazakh could have done to stop his feelings from unfolding.  Yuri Plisetsky was magnetic.  He’d known that when he was thirteen years old at dance camp and the blond had turned his gaze in his direction.  Those emerald eyes held such conviction—he was _unstoppable._

At the end of the day, the brunette was an athlete.  Sponsors depended on his performance and the harsh reality of that life was, you didn’t have the luxury of blowing off practice and buying a plane ticket to go and see your best friend.

Even Viktor and Katsuki had resumed their practice schedules the following day.  Otabek had been informed that Yuri’s grandfather had arrived in Saint Petersburg and that Lilia visited the hospital daily.  No news had leaked to the press so outside of a handful of people, Yuri’s accident had been kept silent.

After the umpteenth sigh that week in practice, the Kazakh had told his coach what had happened.  Otabek had realized something about himself when his coach responded,

“You know, Otabek…two years ago, you didn’t care about socializing with any of your fellow skaters and now,” he clamped a hand to the teen’s shoulder and smiled, “You’ve really grown.  Don’t count him out yet, alright?”

Almond eyes lingered even after his coach’s profile had disappeared from view. 

NNN

Yuuri sat on the sofa patting Makkachin’s head as he watched Viktor preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“I bet Yurio’s going to wake up soon…” he sounded hopeful as he rubbed the poodle’s head.

Viktor merely nodded, thinking back to Friday afternoon.  He didn’t even know what he and Yakov had been discussing and their attention had only shifted moments before the impact. 

_“Yuri?!”  Viktor had jumped the partition and rushed forward without a second thought, sliding to where his crumpled teammate lay._

_“Oh my God…” he murmured taking in the appearance of the blond.  “Yakov!  Call an ambulance!”_

_The older man didn’t even argue with his student’s immediate assessment as he pulled out his cell phone and made the call._

_Viktor knew not to turn him and kept his hands against the sides of the teen’s head to stabilize his neck.  He could feel the warmth against his left hand and looked down to see the red liquid staining the ice._

_“Yuri?  Yuri, can you hear me?” he asked in a calm voice but no response came._

“Viktor?”

His fiancee’s voice brought him back to the present.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he replied with a smile. 

NNN

Lilia frowned as she took the wilted flowers from the vase and pitched them into the bathroom trashcan.  She ran the tap and filled the vase half full before setting it on the counter and arranging the fresh flowers.

She turned off the bathroom light and placed the flowers on the stand next to the bed and looked solemnly at the sleeping teen.  She and Yakov had never had children but between her career and that of her ex-husband’s the two had raised plenty. 

It bothered her that Yuri only had his grandfather.  She smoothed his hair with the palm of her hand, avoiding the left side of his head where the stitches were still fresh. 

“It doesn’t suit you to be so quiet, Yuri Plisetsky,” she advised, looking down at his peaceful face, “I liked you better when you were using unattractive words and making me eat those strange pirozhkis.”

_“What do you want, Yakov?”  She had been interrupted from her book and forced to set down her cup of tea when the phone rang._

_“Lilia…” he didn’t sound right, “…it’s Yuri…”_

_“Are you at your wits end with that child?”  she taunted, it was always fun to get a rise out of him._

_“Lilia, we’re at the hospital.  Yuri fell at practice and he hasn’t woken up.”_

_“Which hospital?”_

The former prima arrived shortly after the call and demanded an update and had taken charge.  She’d even brought Potya to her home to care for the cat while Yuri was in the hospital.  Living with the teen last season, she knew he was invested in his cat.  More so, Lilia also knew Yuri wasn’t her easiest student, but his potential was great, and he possessed a strong heart. 

The room was deemed too stuffy and she had already brought a small radio in and listened as Beethoven’s _Silence Concerto_ filled the air.  A fitting piece with its dramatic shifts in tempo and the underlying feeling of reaching for something that had perhaps already slipped through one’s fingers.    

The staunch woman pulled the cheetah print blanket, which she had retrieved from the boy’s flat, around him and smoothed out its edges avoiding several wires attached to monitors and the breathing apparatus.

She rubbed his head once more while awaiting Nikolai’s return from his chat with the neurologist. 

NNN

Yakov had taken the call in his office.  His office housed numerous trophies, medals and photographs of students throughout his career.  The man looked toward a newspaper article from last year’s Grand Prix Final.  The face of the blond, who refused to emote when on the podium, standing with a gold medal around his neck, under the headline of _“Russia’s Yuri Plisetsky: Wins Grand Prix Final in Debut Season!”_

Yuri was so unlike Viktor in personality, yet he wanted to coach Yuri from the moment he entered his summer camp seven years ago.  In some ways, had he been unfair to the blond?  It was something that had weighed on his mind this past week.  Their relationship had almost always been tense.  Yuri had a strong disposition, one that not many coaches would have tolerated, but Yakov also knew that most kids didn’t carry the financial burden of their families either.     

The coach half listened to Lilia as she updated him on the teen’s prognosis. 

_“They are monitoring the swelling…”_

“Good,” he found himself automatically responding, peering through the blinds of his office window and seeing Viktor land a quad on the ice. 

_“They will operate if need be, but it’s very risky due to the location of the swelling…”_

“I see…” he halfheartedly responded, but the curt tone on the other line quickly remedied that.

_“Are you even listening?”_

The older man grimaced, he’d be on the receiving end of that tone several times, “Yes, Lilia…”

_“If you’re going to continue to blame yourself then I am not going to pat you on the shoulder and tell you to cheer up.”_

“…I understand…”

_“Good,” she affirmed, “Because you should have noticed he was ill.  The Kazakh boy stated that Yuri was sick a week before his accident.  No, you couldn’t have possibly known that he had fluid built up from a possible injury from a prior fall.”_

He sighed softly into the receiver and took his beating.

_“However, you should realize that he is a strong young man and by not visiting it makes it look like you do favor Nikiforov…”_

“That’s not it at all…” he grumbled like a petulant child, “That boy has been _my_ responsibility for seven years, Lilia…”

_“So because he’s injured, it’s your fault?  And you’re going to what?  Write him off like a character in a bad play?  And only focus on the pawns that are still moving?”_

Oh that one hurt.  His ex-wife had a way of bringing everything back to the drama of the theater. 

“I’m pretty sure I am the last person his grandfather wants to see right now.”

He could hear the former prima give an exasperated sigh, _“Suit yourself, you stubborn old man.  I will keep you updated.”_

And with that, the line went dead.

NNN

Otabek watched Yuri’s free skate performance from _Euros_ on his phone; it exuded confidence, strength and that he was at the height of his game.  This was only last month and now the Russian was lying in a hospital bed as life continued moving for the rest of them. 

He watched the flip of Yuri’s wrist, the intricate artistry and the attention to detail with each step sequence as he entered a star spin.  The Russian had a way of captivating the audience, but it was a different sense than when Viktor was on the ice.  Yuri aimed to surprise people, to reinvent himself with each skate, it kept him successful. The teen had such promise at beating Viktor at _Worlds_ …but now?

_Oh, Yura…_

The Kazakh leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

NNN

Nikolai sat in the quiet room.  He hadn’t needed a nurse to encourage him to talk with his grandson.     

“You know _Yurochka_ ,” he began with a sigh and a conspirator’s whisper, “you’re right, that Baranovskaya woman is fierce.”

He rubbed Yuri’s head with a warm smile.  “She is taking care of your demon cat and letting me stay in her extra room…I did try to get a hotel room, but she wouldn’t hear of it.  I guess we can’t say too much about that, now can we?”

The older man looked around the room at the white board hanging on the wall which listed the name of the on call doctor, the nurse assigned to his grandson and the rest of the day’s schedule. 

“ _Yurochka,_ have I ever told you about the story of a little boy who came into his Dedushka’s life at just the right moment?”

He leaned back into the chair, folding his hands in his lap and smiled, “Now this boy was only five years old, when due to circumstances beyond his control, he found that he wasn’t wanted…”

NNN

Viktor passed the corner of the rink and spared a glance before turning into his camel spin.  Accidents happened on the ice all the time, but usually it was broken bones, a bloodied nose, not a kid’s crumpled body. 

He wasn’t just _any_ kid…Yuri was a foulmouthed, spirited, self-proclaimed Russian Tiger…who last year beat his own record in his debut season.  Yuri was someone he had coached briefly and hadn’t really given his full attention to while pursuing his own Yuuri. 

The silver haired man felt a little embarrassed when Yuuri had mentioned that he was surprised that the teen didn’t have parents arriving at the hospital.  It made Viktor realize that outside of skating, he really knew nothing about Yuri Plisetsky.  He was just a fun kid to get riled up and set loose. 

Viktor went into his step sequence and decided that when the little _koneko-chan_ awoke, he’d spend more time—probably against the teen’s will—paying attention to him.

NNN

The normally imposing figure of the world renowned prima, now seemed but a product of her former self.  She stood near the doorway of the hospital room with her back resting against the wall and her head bowed.

The words carried to her ears…

_“And so even without a mother’s love, his Dedushka wanted to make sure that the boy knew he was wanted.  Of course at first, the boy wondered how long until his Dedushka would tire of him too…and the boy had his reasons for being mistrusting of others…”_

NNN

The Japanese man stopped mid-run on the bridge looking out at the setting sun over the Neva River.  His breath came out in small clouds as he jogged in place to keep warm.  For some odd reason it reminded him of home.  He recalled how he and Yuri would run after Viktor, peddling on his bike, while training for their tournament. 

He could almost hear the Russian’s voice announcing to every passerby who dared to call him _Yurio,_ “ _That’s not my name!”_

NNN

_Their last day together in Saint Petersburg reminded Otabek of how they had snuck into the arena to create Yuri’s exhibition skate the night before the performance._

_Yuri had a key to the rink and had hit the lights.  Now they were the only two figures in the facility as their blades echoed from the ice.  The Kazakh had set up his phone to the speaker system as the sound of Vivaldi’s “Winter” filled the space._

_The Russian had been serious about this operation.  He really wanted both of them to be on that podium in a few months and what better way than to work on the details that faulted their performances._

_Otabek looked up from his spin, seeing that Yuri was mimicking the actions of his free skate and frowned._

_“Are you trying to make me look bad, Yura?”_

_A golden eyebrow arched in response to the teasing, “Hardly.  Although I guess it wouldn’t take much right?”_

_“I hang out with you again, why?” questioned the Kazakh with a smirk as he rolled his eyes._

_Yuri seemed unfazed as he continued to mirror his companion’s actions, “Because I’m awesome?”_

_“You’re something alright…”_

_They both grinned and then the blond looked serious.  “Alright, so try this with your artistry…you need your arms to be fluid…”_

_He took off, as the violin increased its tempo and landed the triple axel putting emphasis into his arms and the desired result._

_Not one to argue with someone who made sense, Otabek did as he was told._

_At the song’s conclusion, both went into simultaneous spins, before coming to a halt their chests heaving a little._

_“That was great…Otaya…”complimented the blond, wiping the side of his face with the back of his hand._

_“You’re great,” breathlessly informed the Kazakh before his brain could register how uncool that sounded and he found his face warming._

_“Well, yeah…” replied Yuri, playing off his false bravado, but there was a tinge of pink on his cheeks, “we already know that.”_

_They spent the next several minutes cooling down as they did slow laps around the ice._

Otabek awoke in his chair as the memory seemed to slip from his mind with the sound of his phone ringing.

NNN

Yakov could still recall the phone call from Moscow…

_They had this little star at a local rink and he had agreed to have them send a video.  The coach had loaded the video on the laptop in his office after his students had left for the day.  He halfheartedly glanced at the email on his desk finding the boy’s name: Yuri Plisetsky – Age 10._

_He groaned, everyone believed they had found the next Viktor Nikiforov.  Well he wasn’t expecting much as he lifted his cup of chai to his lips and pressed the play button on the screen.  Yet he didn’t make it past the first few sips…_

_After a few more plays, he shut the laptop and looked for the contact number included in the email before making the call._

_That summer Yuri Plisetsky arrived at the camp he was hosting in Saint Petersburg.  It had been no fluke, the instructors had gushed about the child._

_The first time Yakov saw the boy skate in person, he just knew he had found his next protégé._

NNN

As Nikolai left the room for the night, he smiled at the memory that had entered his mind. 

_The phone had begun to ring as he walked to the kitchen and picked up the handle, bringing it to his ear.  Before he could even say hello…_

_“Dedushka…” came a voice he would know anywhere._

_“Aa, Yuri,” he replied with a smile, “How are you?”_

_Yuri seemed to be trying to whisper, “Guess what?!” but his voice was full of excitement._

_The man followed along, “What?” he asked with equal enthusiasm as he leaned against the kitchen counter._

_“Yakov wants to be my coach!” he blurted into his grandfather’s ear._

_Nikolai could only imagine Yuri trying to contain his excitement as he spoke into the shared phone in the youth dormitory lounge._

_“Oh Yurochka...” he spoke fondly, “I am so proud of you.”_

_“Really?” came a voice full of hope._

_“Really.”_

NNN

_“Why do you skate?”_

It was a question the revered coach had asked all of his students regardless of their age.

_He regarded the small blond before him._

_“I want my Dedushka to be proud of me.”_

_For someone so young, he met the gaze of the older man without hesitation._

_“What about your parents?” inquired Yakov, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, seeing if the answer would change.  Children were fickle creatures._

_Yuri glanced to the side momentarily. “I don’t have parents…”_

_The coach watched as the boy’s little hands balled into fists, wondering if he was going to deal with a crying child.  Yet his breath hitched at the determination on the child’s face when he regarded him once more._

_“I don’t need any to skate, right?!” he practically spat, his emerald eyes lit with resolution._

_Yakov shook his head. “No,” and took a breath, “No you don’t.”_

_He held out his hand in acceptance, “Welcome to my team.”_

_And held that small hand within his grasp._

In _Juniors_ Yuri had been unrivaled.  He rose to the occasion, able to take anything the coach dished out.  The teen wasn’t arrogant.  He was merely driven, always wanting his grandfather to be pleased and knowing that medals equaled monetary value. 

The senior division had been more difficult for the youth and his confidence had been shaken briefly with Viktor’s departure and forgotten promise.  Yet the boy became Lilia’s prized pupil in a few short months. 

Yakov recalled Yuri’s record breaking short program performance.  They had waited quietly in the kiss and cry area while awaiting the scores…

Nothing beat the amazing sense of pride the coach had felt when the blond jumped and Yakov had hoisted him up exclaiming, _“That’s my Yuratchka!”_

Now as he stood in the dimly lit room with his hat in hand, gazing upon his sleeping student, the man had to wonder, would that boy ever return to the ice?

NNN

Please review if you are still enjoying!


	18. If You Go Away

Author’s Notes:  The emotion behind the beginning part was inspired by the song _Ne Me Quitte Pas_ sung by Celine Dion.  Listen if you want to be full of angst.  Why not be depressed together, right?

NNN

Katsuki had this idea and although it sounded a bit odd, he had easily complied.  The Kazakh sat quietly at the bedroom desk in his flat awaiting the call.  He took a deep breath and wondered,

_Why am I nervous?_

Yet the unsettling feeling in his stomach refused to pass. 

NNN

The Skype call connected shortly after accepting the invitation as the brunette found himself gripping the fabric of his jean covered knee, praying he could keep his face passive. 

“Hi, Otabek,” came the Japanese man’s English accent, as he smiled into the screen.

“Katsuki,” he acknowledged with the nod of his head.  He would only ever call one person _Yuri_.

“I’m going to sit you down in just a moment so you can visit.”

The feeling of apprehension had grown in the pit of his stomach as Katsuki continued…

“It’s lunch time here so you won’t have any interruptions.  I’ll be back in an hour so talk as long as you like.”

 _I don’t really talk._  

Those were the words he wanted to say and his eyes softened as the words, _you talk to me,_ entered his mind. 

NNN

Long after the click of the room’s door had signaled the Japanese man’s departure did Otabek find himself still sitting—just staring at the image on the screen.

It was really hard to remain stoic when one was unknowingly blinking back tears.  Yet he swore that over the rasping of the breathing apparatus and the steady beeping of the heart monitor he could hear,

_What’s with you, asshole?_

“Hey, you _little shit_ ,” he found himself answering to those unspoken words as the screen continued to blur before him.  His wet eyes taking in Yuri’s silent image.  The blond’s face was half covered by the oxygen mask and someone had placed a braid on the side of his head—more than likely Lilia. 

Yuri was thin to begin with, (he recalled easily catching the Russian on the hotel balcony), and the Kazakh couldn’t bear the thought of what this was doing to him internally over the last two weeks. 

“So my program has really improved,” he had to try anything to keep away those sickening thoughts, and the rising lump in his throat, “I’m really feeling like I’ll be on that podium with you…”

He brought the side of his fist to his mouth and took a deep breath before continuing, “You’d probably say you could beat us all in your sleep…but I think you’re taking this a bit far.”

Otabek sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, “Jesus, _Yura_ , you’re the one who keeps our conversations going,” another deep breath, “How am I supposed to this without your smart ass remarks?”

Another few minutes of awkward silence passed with the only sign of life echoing through the speakers in the form of the monotonous _beep…beep…beep_ coming from the monitor. 

“I’m going to play you something,” he stated already resigned to the inevitable, “I was saving it for your birthday…”

Almond eyes shifted to the desk calendar to his left which read _February 24_ , only days away from Yuri’s seventeenth birthday.

“You might not even like it,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck and voicing his reservations.

NNN

As the music played, Otabek wasn’t sure what he was hoping for.  No noticeable response had been made by the Russian as the music poured out over the speakers and into the hospital room. 

This was a piece that he had been working on for a while now.  It began slowly, like when Yuri skated with all the poise of a trained dancer and sucked an audience into the emotional component of his performance.  Next the tempo shifted and began to build in speed, as Yuri always did when he became excited or attacked his step sequences.  The riff of the guitar reminded the Kazakh of the blond’s determination as he jumped with the goal of not only being the best but making his grandfather proud.  Even as the chords hit sharply, it was all reminiscent of the Russian—his foul mouth, his ill temper, how his footing would sometimes give way and he would stumble—as the crescendo of the piece demonstrated that unstoppable personality, Otabek could see Yuri recovering and launching into the next jump.  The music began to slow and with all its elegance, the teen with those piercing emerald eyes would go into his finish spin, leaving you to hold your breath at its execution.  As the song concluded, Yuri Plisetsky would take his bow and the crowd would cheer.

“Maybe you can skate to it one day,” his voice was traitorous and he hated it, “If you don’t think it sucks and all…”

The clock indicated that Katsuki would be returning soon and he’d rather not try to hide his red eyes—even if his logical mind told him that wouldn’t be likely with a Skype call. 

“Wake up soon…” he called out to his best friend, “I miss your shitty sense of humor.”

He found his hand hovering over the image on the screen and growled,

“Oh, _fuck it..._ you know I love you, Yuri Plisetsky,” he pleaded, trying to steady his voice, “Don’t be so damn difficult, okay?”

He sat back in his chair after disconnecting the call and slowly shut the laptop’s lid. 

NNN

 Practice was really paying off for the Kazakh.  His short program was more precise than it had been all year and his coach was impressed with the fluidity of his movements.  One month until World’s and he’d face 29 top skaters in his division.  Just to be in the top 30 and to represent his home country was an honor.

Otabek knew Kazakhstan wasn’t known for its figure skating and it would hardly be a contender against countries like Canada and Russia, but hard work and a stubborn desire had sustained him and his passion.  There had been days where homesickness, stress or the fear of failing those at home had almost won the battle.  However, if he had given up, he’d never have managed to become friends with Yuri Plisetsky.

Otabek went into his sit spin, _‘Nowhere near as good as Yura’s…’_ he thought, but it was still good.  Yuri possessed so much potential—great flexibility and an unshakeable drive.  The teen felt his mood lifted by the lunchtime text from Viktor stating that the swelling was down after the spinal tap, and Yuri was out of the woods.

_Time to wake up you little shit…_

Even before the accident, Otabek’s thoughts frequently trailed to the blond.  It had gotten worse after Hasetsu and more so after his time spend in Russia.  Whether he were lying in bed, mixing music or headed to the grocery store there was the faint nagging at his brain, _Yuri, Yuri, Yuri_. 

The nineteen year old was well aware that the object of his affection was attractive as hell, but there was a great deal more than Yuri’s eyes and perfect body keeping the Kazakh interested.  Yuri’s sense of humor, his quirks and the fact that he allowed Otabek a level of intimacy he awarded to none other were reasons that made his heart beat faster. 

He launched into his step sequences and could feel a slight tug at the corner of his lips at the thought of his fingers lacing with the blond’s, the softness of his hair and the feeling of Yuri’s warm lips pressed against his.

His little soldier was going to be fine.  There was no other outcome the Kazakh would entertain.

NNN

By March 2nd Katsuki Yuuri is beat.  Between the rigid diet and Viktor’s grueling labors of love (aka: criticizing the hell out of every poor jump, step sequence or anything he does less than perfect on the ice).  He’s glad that Viktor took the earlier practice schedule today. 

It’s just him and Makkachin at the flat while Viktor polishes up another _gold medal_ routine with Yakov.  He lazily scrolls through his social media feed—between Phichit’s hamsters and selfies, there’s never a dull moment.  Katsuki does miss the random cat video…and realizes he misses an ill-tempered blond. 

It’s quiet at the rink nowadays…not that they did more than see one another in passing with conflicting schedules…but he missed the confidence the self-appointed tiger exuded. 

With a smile, he decided to invite Yuri back to Hasetsu during the off season.

NNN

Nikolai talks briefly with his grandson’s medical team and has already made the decision to line up the physical therapist.  If he knows his grandson, he’ll be itching to hop out of bed and get back on the ice the moment he awakens.  There’s no way he would ever stand in the way of his _Yurochka’s_ passion. 

He plans on making pirozhki when Yuri’s stomach can handle the flavor and heartiness of the home cooked meal.  Nikolai really just wants to see his grandson’s smile…

NNN

Tchaikovsky’s _Valse Sentimentale_ is wafting across the radio’s speakers and into the room as Lilia occupies the room’s chair next to the sleeping teen.  She listens to the elongated notes produced by the violin and its sharp sense of longing. 

“Yuri Plisetsky,” she begins, as proper as ever, while busying herself by tucking his hair behind his ear, “I wish you would stop procrastinating and wake up.”

She sighs, believing that the teen’s response would be, _I’ll do it when I’m good and ready._

NNN

It’s Sunday March 4th and Otabek has dinner plans with his parents.  Probably one of the most reassuring things about being back in Kazakhstan these last two years is being able to attend weekly family dinners in between competitions.  It’s also the one night a week that he blows his diet. Monday mornings he’s slower on the ice and his coach knows the reasoning behind it, but there is something to be said about a mother’s cooking. 

Today starts out like any other Sunday with the Kazakh sleeping in.  He groans at the idea of lugging his laundry to the elevator and down to the laundry room in the building’s basement.  Later, like any true adult in the making, he’ll have to go to the grocery store and determine what he should buy versus what he’d like to buy. 

In a few months it will be the offseason and the start of his fourth year of secondary classes.  It’s not uncommon for athletes to graduate a year later than their normal peers.  The following year he’ll enroll in a university and work on his core required classes.  As long as he has a future in skating, then Otabek will skate, but it’s not a lifelong career and most are done by the age of thirty due to injury or physical stress to the body. 

Some skaters merely wish to settle down, but at nineteen, the Kazakh’s a little young to think about that.  Thinking about the 2022 Olympics is more realistic than marriage and the house with the white picket fence. 

With furrowed brows and a glare toward the hamper of dirty clothes, he starts his day…

NNN

Lilia and Nikolai have a quiet breakfast.  Nikolai is convinced he’s going to starve to death if Yuri doesn’t wake up soon.  He nervously watches as the intimidating _lady of the house_ samples the homemade syrniki.  She nods in approval a few moments later and he feels the release of air he didn’t know he had been holding.

Potya paws toward the basket of bread while occupying Nikolai’s lap.  The man rubs her chin.  Yuri’s taught his cat some _unattractive manners_ according to Lilia.  However, seeing her mew in anticipation whenever the door opens and look for Yuri to enter, leaves little will to argue the case.

NNN

He’s convinced Viktor to let him cook breakfast, a real—doesn’t taste like cardboard—meal.  When Viktor’s not looking he _accidentally_ drops a piece of meat to the floor where Makkachin conveniently is sitting. 

Viktor’s scrolling through Netflix and appears to be stuck on the Rom Com genre, causing Katsuki to sigh. 

Later they’ll go for a walk as the sun is shining and the temperature is above freezing.  Makkachin will do her best to look cute and bum food from every passerby they encounter and Sunday will be a normal day for the two.

NNN

Perhaps he’s taken on a bit too much trying to the juggle the keys from his coat pocket, while carrying the grocery bags in hand and the laundry basket on his hip?  It’s around 4pm and Otabek’s phone has to ring at the worst possible moment, just as he’s fumbling to insert the key into the door knob. 

Somehow he turns the knob and opens the door before reaching for the phone.  It’s more than likely his mother, calling to ask him to bring something she didn’t realize wasn’t in the house for dinner.

He pushes into the doorway of his flat and swipes the phone in hand, propping it between his chin and shoulder.

“Sälemetsiz be?”  he answers in his native tongue as he makes his way toward the couch to unload. 

“Privet, _asshole_ …”

Otabek’s breath hitches at the familiar voice on the line.  He sets the laundry basket on the couch cushion and automatically looks at the screen of his phone.  The name of the one he loves staring back at him— _Yura._

NNN

Conclusion next week! Please review!

 

 

 

 


	19. The Winds of Change

Author’s Note: As always, thanks for the comments.  I love to hear from you and know that you’re enjoying this adventure as much as me.

NNN

He sits on the couch, just pressing the phone to his ear and focuses on the voice on the other line.  The Kazakh isn’t sure that he’s uttered another word since accepting the call.

_“Are you still there?”_

Otabek manages an almost inaudible sound in response because he’s trying to blink back the tears as he’s silently thanking God that Yuri is awake and the ache his heart has felt over the last two weeks is starting to subside. 

_“Are you okay?”_

He can’t help but chuckle in response, trying to get his bearings, “I’m supposed to be asking you that…”

“I’m okay,” comes the quiet response.  Yuri sounds tired and his words are a little dragged out but he’s nearer to Otabek than he has been in weeks, and the brunette just wants to hold onto this feeling.  More than anything, he wants to hold _Yura._

The Russian continues to explain, “Been made a human pin cushion,” he swallows, “…and Viktor got fucking snot on me,” he sounds put out, “…but I’m alright, _Otaya_.”

That sweet nickname enters Otabek’s ears and he can feel his eyes brimming, “ _Yura_ , I missed you…”

Yuri scoffs and then let’s out a tired laugh, “That’s fucking sappy as hell…”

The older teen laughs as he pictures Yuri’s face and the rolling of his eyes.  It really is sappy, but he’s in love with Yuri Plisetsky all sap included.  The Kazakh promises that he’ll get the sap in check before they meet again—he’s got a reputation to uphold. 

NNN

Yuri and his grandfather have had many conversations within the last few days.  In the end, there’s nothing that the Russian would ever deny his grandfather so he agrees to the conditions. 

The blond sighs, standing outside of the rink with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, as he watches his breath come out in small puffs. 

_It’s now or never, Plisetsky._

Mila’s on the ice as he quietly enters, his presence going undetected as he makes his way toward the locker room.

NNN

He catches his reflection in the mirror and grimaces.  Two weeks in a coma and he’s thinner than before and for someone so well rested, Yuri’s not sure why he has bags under his eyes or why his limbs feel so heavy.  The blond lets out a sigh as he gently rubs the stitching on the left side of his head, they’ll come out in another week, so he’s told.  It’d be a pretty cool conversation piece, if he didn’t look like a zombie.

Well that’s that, he supposes and heads towards Yakov’s office with bag in hand.

NNN

Yakov looks up from his desk and sets down the papers in hand at the sight before him.  He waits for Yuri to break the silence and watches as he shifts his weight,

“We need to talk…”

He announces, right before closing the door behind him.

NNN

Otabek stretches.  It’s Wednesday and Yuri’s been released from the hospital.  According to the Russian’s texts, Lilia’s got him pretty much under house arrest, and won’t release his grandfather or his cat until he passes inspection.  Occupational therapy has gone well and according to Yuri, he wasn’t in a coma long enough to do any real damage, so he’s going to be kicking ass sooner than later.

There’s a part of the Kazakh that will only believe that his little _ass kicker_ is back, when he sees Yuri’s face.  Only three and a half weeks until _Worlds_ , but not even Yuri has mentioned the competition.    

NNN

A knock from the office door interrupts them and Mila peeks her head inside—truly none of Yakov’s students are patient enough to wait for permission before entering.  She blinks and then beams at the sight of the blond. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she announces, “I was going to take a break if that’s okay, Yakov?”

The older man merely acknowledges her request with a nod, “We were finished anyways.”

He returns to busying himself in his papers and Yuri picks up his bag, turning to leave.  The blond stops in the doorway as Mila moves back.  He pulls his hood up and with his back to his coach, he raises his hand to signal his departure, “спасибо, Yakov.”

When the man looks up, Yuri Plisetsky is gone and with a sigh he returns to the new student applications on his desk.

NNN

“You’re not staying?” Mila inquires, practically on his heels after catching him in a hug.

Yuri continues to head down the corridor with bag in hand, “No.  I’ve got shit to do, _Baba_ ,” he offhandedly remarks.

She huffs, “You know, I’m only three years older than you,” she announces with hands on her hips, “I’ll never understand why you call me, _Baba_.”

The younger teen stops, and when he turns toward her, there’s something hidden behind those emerald orbs as he smirks, “See ya around, _Mila._ ”

The door closes behind him before she can respond.

NNN

Lilia is waiting in the car when he exits the building.  Yuri can’t wait to see Potya and try to consume something other than liquid.  He opens the car door and sets his bag on the floor as he sits and buckles. 

“I’m proud of you, Yuri Plisetsky,” her voice is kinder than usual.

It makes Yuri feel uncomfortable and he’s not sure how to respond so he nods with an, “Aa…”

The Russian’s reflection in the glass of the window betrays him and shows his embarrassment.

The radio in the car softly plays Chopin’s _Nocturne_ as they pull away from the arena—causing the building’s reflection to grow smaller in the car’s mirror as they drive further away.

NNN

That evening Otabek receives a text message asking if he can Skype Friday evening.  The Kazakh might have seemed too eager, having responded within a matter of seconds, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

**Yura:** I have a lot to tell you.  I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing your face when I do.

It’s funny how you can imagine one’s voice when they text you often enough.

Otabek would never voice his actual thoughts, because Yuri wouldn’t accept them as serious.  However, he really did want to see Yuri’s _beautiful_ face, so he settled for:

**Otabek:** Guess I’ll have to settle for that cocky smirk of yours.

NNN

On Thursday, Katsuki Yuuri has arrived at the rink and sets his things in his locker.  One of the locker doors is left ajar and before he can ponder more on the subject, his coach arrives carrying two cups of chai.

The brunette smiles and takes one of the offered cups before being ushered toward the ice.  He makes a note to send a text message after practice.

NNN

It’s Friday morning and Potya refuses to let Yuri up from his spot on the couch as she kneads the fabric of his sweatshirt and occupies his chest.  Luckily she has forgiven him from yesterday’s trip and late night arrival. 

He scrolls idly through his phone and waits for his morning therapy appointment.  His therapist’s supposedly a bitch, but it’s good.  It motivates the teen because come lunch time he’s going to need all the encouragement he can get. 

NNN

Mila comes into the rink after lunch and cries, “Did you know?!”

Her accusatory tone halts Katsuki in the middle of his step sequence and Viktor merely blinks. 

“Know what?” the living legend inquires, a little put out because Yuuri was really flying in his free skate.

The Japanese man has an inkling to what this is about…after all, he texted Yuri yesterday.

NNN

Otabek’s phone vibrates from his jacket pocket as he puts his skates in his locker.  He closes the locker and takes out his phone seeing the ISU notification,

_Check out the latest about Russia’s Yuri Plisetsky…_

His finger hovers over the alert, _Something about Yura?_

The brunette swipes the screen and unlocks his phone while awaiting the web browser to load.

NNN

Yakov’s got a headache, his students are usually the cause and this time is no different. 

“Of course I knew,” he states with a look that screams _isn’t that obvious_?  He continues because of the two gaping before him, “No, it wasn’t any of your business and now I have work to do,” he finished quickly ushering them out of his office before closing the door. 

NNN

The Japanese man had been doing lazy figure eights—well, he was now doing lazy figure eights—earlier he had been texting Yuri. 

**Katsuki:** Yurio, are you alright?

**Yurio:** Not my name, Buta.  I’m fine. 

**Katsuki:** It was just sudden, you know?  Viktor and Mila are confused.

**Yurio:** It’s my life, Katsudon. 

**Katsuki:** I know…are you really okay?

**Yurio:**  I’m really okay.  Honest.  You won’t be, if Viktor catches you fucking off and not working on that sloppy leg of yours. 

**Katsuki:** Good point.  Good luck and talk to you later.

NNN

Yakov texted his ex-wife,

_A fine mess you’ve gotten me into…_

And groaned when he received her response,

_I’m sure you’ll manage._

NNN

As Otabek waited for the call to connect, he felt nearly as anxious as when he first asked Yuri for his friendship back in Barcelona.  He wanted to rid his mind of the last time he had seen the blond, hooked up to machines and worlds away. 

When the image appeared on the computer screen, his heart skipped a beat.  There was Yuri, the beautiful boy who owned his heart, with his arch nemesis draped across his shoulder.  Otabek didn’t even know where to begin as Yuri smirked into the screen. 

“Hey…”

“Hey…” repeated the Kazakh.

NNN

The first half hour or so was Yuri asking about Otabek’s program and was he ready for _Worlds_?  He’d merely shaken his head in response to the competition and the Kazakh had already known.

“It was just bad timing, _Yura_ ,” he tried to offer something of comfort.

The blond rubbed Potya’s head as the speaker picked up her purring, 

“Yeah, just fucking sucks, ya know?” Yuri began, looking away from the camera in thought, “I would have liked to mop the floor with Viktor’s face just once.”

“Has he contacted you?” questioned the Kazakh, leaning back in his chair.  He really did feel bad about the competition.

“Viktor?  Oh hell yeah…” 

As if on cue his phone chimed and Otabek watched as the Russian picked up his phone. 

“Guess who?”  He swiped the screen of his phone and started to read off some of the messages,

“Yurio?  Yuri?  Yuratcha?  Fucking idiot tried every name…”

“Did you bother to respond?” prompted the brunette with an arch of an eyebrow.

“The first two or three times, yes…” admitted the younger teen, “but then it was him going on and on about how maybe he had failed me as a mentor.”  Yuri looked right into the camera with a _what the fuck_ kind of expression.  “Don’t you need to be a willing participant to be mentored by someone?”

Otabek chuckled, “Its Viktor,” he stated with a shrug.

“I’m not interested in being part of _Idiots Anonymous_ or some other bullshit, so I fucking told him I’m alright.  That change isn’t the end of the world,” he explained, shifting on his bed and taking Potya with him. 

“Are you happy, _Yura_?” the Kazakh found himself asking.

Yuri hummed for a moment and then smiled, “Yeah.  I moved to Saint Petersburg when I was ten and I haven’t had much time with my grandpa the last seven years…” he looked thoughtful before continuing, “and it’s not like I’m going to say no to the one fucking person who wants me.”

“Two.”

The Russian blinked at the interjected word, “Huh?”

“You have two people…” sincerely added Otabek. 

He watched as Yuri’s mouth made an O in realization, and he pulled Potya into his lap to hide his embarrassment. 

“So tell me about your plans in Moscow…” encouraged the brunette, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the arm of his chair and eyes softening.

“So, Lilia arranged for me to meet Sergei…”

Ah yes, Sergei Ivanov.  Otabek hadn’t been wasting the rest of his day.  He’d done what any sane person does when your best friend makes a life altering decision—he’d gone to ask Google. 

What the Kazakh had learned was that Sergei Ivanov was a two time GPX champion and a two time World champion, as well as, the 2006 Olympic Silver Medalist—not too shabby.  At the age of 33 he was stationed in Moscow as a choreographer and upcoming coach in the junior division, but he wanted to enter into seniors.  He was currently scouting new talent and had trained with Lilia Baranovskaya during his competitive years.   

“…so I guess the moment Lilia mentioned me, he was fucking excited or something?”

Otabek’s stoicism stayed put as he thought,

_She practically handed him a gold medalist…excited is probably a fucking understatement._

“How did Yakov take it?” he asked, his brows furrowing, at the thought of the formidable coach.

“It went well,” remarked Yuri, leaning against the headboard of the bed, “I just told him that Dedushka had arranged for therapy in Moscow and I was going home, and meeting with Sergei later in the week.”

Otabek took a sip of his now lukewarm chai, watching as Yuri’s eyes narrowed.

“Old man wouldn’t even tell me what I owed him for coaching fees.  Gave me some bullshit about being all paid up.  Can you believe that?”

“Your performance over the last seven years probably paid for itself,” offered the Kazakh with a shrug, “You’re almost always on the podium.”

“Yeah, maybe…” but the blond pursed his lips nonetheless.  “I have a press conference next Thursday.  Gotta silence the social media shit show.  Have you seen some of the stuff they’re posting?”

The brunette grimaced, most of what he had seen had been from distraught _Yuri’s Angels_.  There were a lot of tears emojis and crying gifs going around in the comments sections.   Yuratchka was now over ten hours away, but their undying love for the teen still burned.  Others had suggested that the blond had left due to a conflict of interest, and more speculated that it must have been hard training with Nikiforov and playing second fiddle. 

NNN

Otabek isn’t surprised come the following Thursday, he’s been anticipating the ISU notification on his phone.  At lunch time, he clicks the link and finds a video attached.

_Sergei Ivanov: Positive he’s hit gold with Yuri Plisetsky!_

The video opens with the young coach standing beside the sideboard in a red jacket.  He looks to be in good physical form—his short brown hair styled in a side part and his brown eyes seem to speak volumes, as he wears a sincere smile on his narrow face.

“I couldn’t be happier to be given the opportunity to work with Yuri Plisetsky,” he appreciatively speaks and nods at the next question, “He has a lot of heart and I look forward to developing our relationship next season.”

Sergei fields the next question like a pro, “No.  There is no issue between me and Yakov Feltsman.  It’s not that unusual for skaters to switch their rinks.  After all, Plisetsky is from Moscow.”

After a few more questions the camera pans to the ice and a series of little girls, leaning against the wall, look quite smitten as the media person laughs.

“Looks like Ivanov’s not the only one happy about this venture…”

The camera moves toward the focus of the young people and zooms in on Yuri, dressed all in black with his hair half pulled back, running through one of his routines. 

_He looks good._

Seeing Yuri so natural on the ice, makes the entire nightmare seem as though it had never happened. 

NNN

It’s lunch time when Yuri receives a text,

**Katsudon:** Saw your press conference!  You look great.  Viktor says you’re going to be the star of your own show.

Yuri merely rolls his eyes, shoves a protein bar in his mouth and responds,

**Yuri:** Tell that idiot not to retire before I kick his ass.

**Katsudon:** Will do.  You really do look great, Yurio.

**Yuri:** Thanks, Buta.

NNN

Otabek is afraid to respond to the text he’s just received from Yuri.

**Yura:** My life is over.

**Otabek:** Whose body am I helping you bury?

**Yura:** I wish it were that simple.  Lilia’s fucking moving to Moscow.

Well this definitely wasn’t what the Kazakh had expected.

**Otabek:** Seriously?

**Yura:** She owns a fucking flat because of her connections with Bolshoi and thinks that I’m going to need her continued support. 

The brunette shakes his head and tries not to laugh as he types out,

**Otabek:** Sounds suspicious.

**Yura:** Very fucking suspicious!  I told Dedushka and you should have seen his face!

Now Otabek was really laughing, stoicism cast to the wind.

**Yura:** I swear to God, he just locked the front door! 

NNN

It’s Saturday night and _Worlds_ will start in four days.  Otabek’s packing and will leave tomorrow morning for his flight.  He wishes he could go back to Saint Petersburg, back to January, when he and Yuri had made plans for him to visit Almaty after the competition.

At the moment he only has a few feelings and they all revolve around Yuri.  The Kazakh is resolved to earn a spot on that podium for them both, and as soon as he can, he’s going back to Russia to visit. 

He looks down at the text message on his phone and smiles,

**Yura:** Kick ass this week or I’m not sure we can still be friends. 

NNN

Monday night and Otabek’s just returned from dinner at a café.  It would have been more interesting with Yuri—life always is.  He’d already run into Viktor and Katsuki last night in the lobby, as well as managing to close the elevator door with a false apology before JJ could enter this afternoon.

He looks at his phone, no response from his last text message sent to Yuri earlier in the day and decides to shower.

While in the shower he thinks of the upcoming schedule.  Tomorrow is the opening ceremony, however, the men won’t take the ice until Wednesday. That means Otabek will have Thursday off, and return to the ice Friday for the free skate—with the competition concluding on Sunday with the gala. 

The Kazakh lets the warm water wash over him, his head bowed under the stream and eyes closed as he contemplates his chances.  His knee isn’t great, still swells when he lands a quad, but he’s certain he can land it in competition.  Certain he can get on the podium for _Yura_. 

Everything has changed in the last few months since the trip to Hasetsu, and as he pushes his head further under the stream of warm water, he still can’t believe it panned out.  How the fuck did he get Yuri Plisetsky to accept his feelings?

It makes him smile though.  He tries not to imagine if Yuri hadn’t woken up.  The Kazakh tries even harder not to think about it all going to shit.  Otabek sighs because he’s honestly never been in love before, especially not with his best friend.

NNN

As he’s toweling his hair he hears his phone ringing and reaches out with his free hand to see _Yura_ light up on the screen. 

“Hey,” he greets after accepting the call.

_Hey_ …

He sits on the edge of the bed, running the towel through his hair with one free hand and sits in a pair of sweat pants. 

_How was your flight yesterday?_

“No real delays,” he comments before throwing the towel onto the back of the desk chair and laying back onto the bed.

_You run into any morons today?_

“The usual suspects,” he confirms and can hear Yuri’s snicker in his ear, “You’d be proud.  I hit the elevator button before JJ could get in.”

_That’s fucking great.  I bet his face was priceless._

“I’m convinced he thinks it’s your influence,” the brunette says with a sigh.

_What are you doing now?_

“Talking to you and holing up in my room to avoid reporters, fans and skaters,” he openly admits.

_That sounds about right…_

A knock from the door interrupts his thoughts and with furrowed brows and a glare targeted toward the door he sits up.

“Hang on, there’s someone at the door.”

_Did you order room service?_

“I wish…” Otabek admits before making his way to the door.

_If it is room service, don’t turn away free food._

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he admits, looking out the peek hole and not seeing anyone. 

With a groan he unlocks the door and turns the handle before looking down to find a small basket with Italian sweets and what looks to be a pot of chai.  The phone is still held up to his ear as he stares at the basket as if it were some sort of trap. 

_So…was it room service?_

Otabek goes to answer but then something clicks in his brain that Yuri’s voice isn’t coming from just the phone.  The teen turns his head to the side and there, leaning against the wall, with one foot resting against it, phone in hand—clad in blue hoodie, black skinny jeans and cheetah print sneakers—is none other than Yuri Plisetsky with a mischievous look in his emerald eyes.

NNN

Please drop me a comment if you enjoyed.

 


	20. On Top of the World

****

Author’s Notes: We’ve made it to Milan!  So what kind of fun can our favorite _idiots in love_ get into?  Well let’s find out in a few parts!

Obviously I do not own the lyrics used in this part of the series. I do mention songs to enhance the story, so if you feel inclined, you always find these songs on YouTube.

I am heading into my busy season so while I won’t be making weekly updates, this series still has a lot of life to it.

NNN

 

Otabek feels dumbfounded as he watches Yuri return his phone to the pocket of his jacket and push away from the spot he had been occupying against the hallway’s wall.  He doesn’t know how to respond as he watches Yuri pick up the basket and stand before him—so he does the only logical thing he can fathom and moves back to allow the younger teen access to the room. 

Yuri walks into the room and sets down the basket on the desk, before sarcastically turning to say,

“So it wasn’t room service—

Yet the blond doesn’t get anything further past his lips because he’s captured in a crushing hug.  It takes Yuri a moment to relax in his best friend’s embrace, noting the close proximity of their bodies. 

“…Otabek?”  Yuri questions more softly than usual, feeling the Kazakh breathe deeply, his arms secured around his shoulders and waist. 

“I can’t believe you’re here…” the brunette murmurs against Yuri’s shoulder as he holds him close.

Yuri arches an eyebrow and tilts his head, to view Otabek’s face, feeling the gaze of his best friend’s eyes.

He tries to make light of the situation, “What’s with you?  The title for _fucking sappy couple_ has already been taken, remember?”

The older teen chuckles at this and gives him one more squeeze before loosening his hold on the blond.  With a little distance between them and hands resting on Yuri’s hips, Otabek can get a real look at the Russian, who is watching him with a quizzical expression.

_He’s thinner than before, but still fucking beautiful…_

Yuri pokes the index finger of his right hand against the brunette’s bare chest and grins like a Cheshire cat, “I told you I would be kicking ass sooner than later, didn’t I?”

Otabek smirks, “You did,” he admits then with furrowed brows adds, “but you forgot to mention it would be in _this_ competition.”

Yuri shrugs in response to the accusation, “Even I didn’t know until this morning.  I was supposed to have a therapy appointment on Friday, but it got fucking cancelled.”

Brown eyes follow all of the blond’s animated gestures as he continues, “I _literally_ got cleared at 8am this morning.  Lilia and I got on one flight and Sergei is coming in a few hours.”

Yuri looked puzzled, feeling gentle fingers on the left side of his head before the Kazakh explained himself,

“Your head is alright, _Yura_?” he softly spoke, while examining the area, his voice laced with concern.

The younger teen nodded his affirmation, “Yeah, its fine.”  He resisted the urge to bat away Otabek’s hand—normally people fawning over him was annoying. 

“And you’re alright to compete?” the Kazakh voiced his worry, rubbing the blond’s head affectionately. 

Yuri smirked with an air of confidence, “We’re going to kick so much ass this week, _Otaya_.”

Otabek couldn’t stop the feelings that came in response to that statement.  He recently had found himself craving Yuri’s touch, his voice, the smell of his shampoo, everything that made him fall for the teen, as he lowered his hand from the blond’s hair to his cheek before leaning forward.

Yuri straightened his back in response and met the awaiting lips half way before bringing his hands up to rest in the brunette’s still damp hair.  He could hear Otabek sigh in response and smirked into the kiss, feeling the grip on his hip tighten, pulling his body flush with the Kazakh’s.

After they broke apart, Yuri stood with his arms wrapped securely around Otabek’s neck, his chin resting on his best friend’s bare shoulder and trapped in a warm embrace.  They just seemed to sway in time to their own tune—no words necessary. 

Being with Otabek wasn’t annoying.

NNN

They sat on the queen bed in Otabek’s hotel room sipping chai from white porcelain cups and sampling the assortment of sweets Yuri had managed to procure from the hotel restaurant. 

“Do Viktor and Katsuki know you’re here?” inquired the brown eyed teen, leaning against the headboard of the bed now fully clothed with a black hoodie.

“Oh fuck no,” dismissively responded Yuri with the wave of his hand, as he sat cross legged on the opposite end of the bed, “We literally landed two hours ago and I came here after dropping my stuff in my room and calling Dedushka.”

“When are you going to tell them?” he needn’t really ask, he had an inkling to the way Yuri thought.

“When they fucking see me tomorrow at the opening,” Yuri flatly responded before nibbling on an odd looking pastry.  “I’m not sure what this is, but it’s pretty good.”

“You should eat the whole damn basket, _Yura_ ,” commented the brunette, giving Yuri’s torso a once over with an appraising look. 

“Huh?” managed the blond around the food in his mouth.

“You’re just thin—

Oh the scowl on Yuri’s face told him to abort that mission. 

Luckily for Otabek he didn’t scare easily as he tried to rectify the situation, “Thinner than you were.”

Oh the eye twitch didn’t go undetected and the Kazakh felt himself on the receiving end of a _Tch._

“I can’t help it that I’m thin, you _asshole._ ”

The older teen sighed, he knew that Yuri’s lithe stature was something of annoyance for him, as it had gained him the nickname _fairy_ —a term he loathed.  Anyone who knew Yuri, would know he was anything but his looks.

“Can’t I just worry about you, _Yura_?” he offered with a resigned tone. 

Yuri averted his eyes and pursed his lips, “Whatever.”

The blond blinked, finding a hand come into view and the statement that followed,

“Don’t be mad at me, you _little shit_.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and placed his hand in the one offered, presumably in apology, and gasped as the hand tightened around his and pulled the blond forward into strong arms.

“You’re so fucking temperamental,” murmured the Kazakh good naturedly, feeling the younger boy begin to relax. 

“And you’re still an _asshole_ …”

NNN

The opening ceremony always came with a press conference.  The media wasted no time at trying to dig up dirt from them—trying to pit Viktor against Yuri.  Yuri actually wished it was last year, when all the press cared about was Viktor coaching Katsudon. 

_I fucking hate the press…_

He groaned mentally, keeping a straight face as they were herded like cattle to the venue’s entrance.  Sergei gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, his brown eyes full of understanding as he whispered,

“They always want something for the papers.  Don’t worry kid, after you win, they’ll have plenty to write about.”

Yuri felt a tug at the corner of his lips.  The last three weeks with a new coach, should have been difficult, but he actually liked this guy—and that was saying something.

_He’d walked into the rink in Moscow, Lilia had set up the meeting before he left Saint Petersburg.  It felt weird, being back in Moscow, knowing that the last seven years had just been pushed aside without much thought.  Yuri hadn’t even been on ice since the accident, but other than the dizziness, fatigue and the strict diet as he tried to reintroduce his stomach to food, he was said to be alright in all of his motor faculties._

_Sergei’s office was well marked, but that’s not where he found the man.  It was actually on the ice.  Yuri had stopped, leaning against the sidewall as he watched his new coach—potential coach—work through a step sequence.  Sergei looked to be in good physique for his age, even landing a triple with little effort.  The blond had watched a couple of YouTube videos before arriving at the rink—he had possessed Yuri’s level of flexibility in his day.  Yuri had kept waiting for his body to change, worrying about awkward limbs or an increase in height, but at now 17, still no drastic changes had occurred._

_Whatever, it was probably for the best…_

They entered the venue with the flashing of camera bulbs going off around them in a flurry.  Lilia was on his left as they passed by several of their opponents.  He nodded noncommittally when he passed a waving Leo and a smiling Guang.  Yuri could hear JJ’s voice from across the way, hamming it up for the press like an idiot.  They turned the corner, the barriers on the sides keeping the VIP attendees at bay. 

There ahead was Katsudon, with Viktor, who was being interviewed about the challenges of coaching and competing.  Yuri just wanted to sneak on by—

“Yurio?!”

…But _oh, no_ that was apparently too much to ask for.

Katsudon was practically beaming, while Viktor looked like he had forgotten how to speak.  Yuri had to fight the smirk that wanted to make itself known—he casually gestured with the tilt of his head, hands in his pockets as he and his team walked through.

“Katsudon. Viktor.”

Viktor turned to the flashing of bulbs and the flurry of questions as Katsuki made a break for it. 

“Yuuri, wait…” Viktor tried, but the Japanese man was already heading after Yuri and his team, while he was swamped with the press inquiring about his relationship with his now former teammate. 

The silver haired man smiled good naturedly, with all the charm he readily possessed, “Now, now…”

NNN

Lilia and Sergei gave them a moment to converse as they went to retrieve badges and directions on where to head.  Yuri leaned his back against the wall, his duffle bag at his feet. 

“Yurio, you’re competing?”  Katsuki was completely baffled by the appearance of the Russian.

“Obviously,” remarked Yuri with the roll of his eyes, “someone has to kick Viktor’s ass,” but his tone sounded friendly.

“You’re really strong…”

The Japanese man’s words caught him off guard, “Huh?”

“I mean, you’ve been through so much and you’ve made it to _Worlds_ …that’s amazing, Yuri.”

There wasn’t anything but sincerity in Katsuki’s expression and it made Yuri feel awkward. 

With narrowed eyes he added, “I’m not going to go easy on you just because you complimented me, Buta.”

Katsudon held up his hands in defense, “Of course.”

NNN

He sat in the reserved seating with Sergei and Lilia and almost grimaced when he felt someone take the other seat next to him.  Luckily it was Otabek and his coach and not Viktor.  Not that Yuri usually enjoyed the opening ceremonies of competitions, but sitting next to Viktor (or God forbid someone like JJ) would make it even worse. 

Sergei occupied Yuri’s other side, before whispering, “Don’t look now, but I think Nikiforov is going to pop out of his seat if you don’t acknowledge him.”

Otabek heard Yuri snicker at something his coach said and watched as he leaned, his attention falling on Viktor a few rows over.  The Kazakh sighed, actually thankful there were no more seats around them as the lights started to dim over the arena. 

Their attention was soon drawn toward the center of the ice as Italy welcomed the world to Milan.

Yuri pushed Otabek’s arm off the armrest, with a grin, as he settled into his seat…these ceremonies were usually a good 30-50 minutes long.  The brunette merely tolerated it—a small price to pay for Yuri being there.

NNN

As soon as the ceremony concluded Sergei spoke up, “You two want to go get dinner?”

Lilia politely gave a dismissive wave before standing up from her seat; Yuri, however, always perked up at the idea of food.

“Don’t keep him out too late,” she stated—more like threatened—her former student.

Sergei smiled as the imposing woman left the row before turning toward Yuri, “She never changes.  So what do you say, kid?”  He leaned forward, his brown eyes taking in their expressions, “You’re invited too, Otabek.”

The Kazakh blinked after being addressed by Yuri’s newly acquired coach and gave a sideways glance toward Yuri, before nodding in agreement.

NNN

They had almost made it out of the venue before Viktor’s singsong voice interrupted Yuri’s thoughts. 

He caught the younger Russian up and spun him around with a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Yuri,” his blue eyes seemed unable to hide his emotions, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

The blond rolled his eyes, “So everyone keeps saying…”

The living legend kept patting his shoulders, as if at a loss for words, “I have no doubt that you’re going to be amazing tomorrow.”

Now Yuri had that _déjà vu_ feeling…and if Viktor was fucking going to hug him, he was going to make a break for it.

Yet Viktor gave Yuri’s shoulders a squeeze before turning his attention toward Sergei.

“I hope you realize how lucky you are,” was his leveled statement before walking past the trio.  He held up his hand in departure and stated, “Yuri, let’s get together before we leave Milan.”

“That was odd…” commented the skeptical blond, watching the retreating form of his former teammate.

Sergei gave his new protégé a sideways look and smiled, not shaken by the encounter, “Not really.  I think Nikiforov probably wanted to be your next coach.” 

“Huh?” questioned Yuri, looking at Otabek who gave a slight inclination that he agreed with the assessment. “But he already has Katsudon…”

His new coach, nodded, “It’s just a thought kid. C’mon, you two, I’m hungry and I promised Lilia not to keep you out too late or she’ll have my head.”

NNN 

The trio occupied a corner table at a restaurant a few blocks away from the hotel.  It was nothing fancy, but the food was good.

Sergei was pretty down to Earth…in fact, he seemed to have the same sense of humor that both teens did.

“Lilia would kill me if she knew what I was eating…” groaned Yuri, glancing around nervously, as though the prima was going to pop up at any moment and bust his ass.

Otabek was also feeling a tad guilty, looking down at the heap of pasta before him—had Italians never heard of _portion control_?

“Don’t worry kid, your secret is safe with me,” announced the older man with a smile, “I think you both deserve it. The competition is going to be fierce.”

They both regarded the seasoned professional as he continued, “You’re both in the top 5, the last group to compete in each program.  With the exception of yourselves, because Yuri tells me, you’re on a mission to _kick ass…”_

The Kazakh nearly choked on his pasta, at the candid tone, as Yuri slid a glass of water his way.

This seemed to amuse the coach, “...you still have 27 skaters to beat out for a position on the podium, and it’s going to be a lot harder than the Grand Prix.”  

Yuri twirled some pasta around his fork and pursed his lips in thought. “No mistakes or someone like JJ will get on the podium…”

Otabek watched as the blond grimaced at the thought and sighed, “It’s Viktor we should be worried about…and Katsuki is a close second.”

Sergei seemed to watch them both before smiling, “I saw you both at Euros, don’t sell yourselves short.  Otabek, your free skate is technically as solid as Katsuki’s…and Yuri, well we have our own game plan, don’t we kid?”

The Kazakh watched as Yuri nodded in affirmation and he wondered what exactly this new plan of attack was between the two Russians.

NNN

They’d agreed to settle in at Yuri’s room to hang out before bed after changing into pajamas.

“I like him,” announced Otabek, occupying a spot on the couch next to the blonde, “Sergei’s good for you, _Yura_.”

“I can’t believe Lilia picked such a cool coach for me,” replied the Russian, sitting with his legs crossed as they waited for the TV movie to return from the commercial break, “ _Otaya,_ do you really think what Sergei said is true?”

The Kazakh shifted his arm around Yuri’s shoulders and regarded him, “You don’t?”

“I mean, it’s kind of fucking stupid, isn’t it?” questioned the blond, his emerald eyes held his doubt. 

Otabek furrowed his brows, “It’s not stupid to think that Viktor would want to coach you.  I’d be flattered if someone like that wanted to coach me.”

“Good. I’ll tell Viktor you’re interested,” stated Yuri with a smirk, “You, the pig and that idiot, will make a great team,” he teased and watched his companion sigh.

NNN

The short program had gone well for both of the skaters—Yuri landing second after Viktor, and Otabek holding onto third, beating out JJ and Katsuki.  Lilia was currently fussing over the blond, taking his face in her hand and examining him.

“Are you dizzy?”

He would be if she didn’t stop grilling him.  Yuri didn’t need to turn his head—even if he could—he knew that Otabek’s knee wasn’t great from the way his coach was gesturing. 

_Shit._

“I’m o—

“Yuri Plisetsky,” came her icy tone, “if you so much as lie to me, so help me…”

“...Yes…” he reluctantly replied after seeing Sergei’s cautionary face.

_How the fuck are we going to get through the free skate?_

NNN

Otabek had answered the door to his room and blinked to find Yuri with an ice bucket and a backpack, probably containing snacks.

“I figure we’re both under house arrest for the night,” he watched the Kazakh’s eyes for any indication that he wasn’t needed.

“Yeah…” regrettably confirmed the brunette, before limping back into his room. 

Yuri shut the door behind him and sighed, before setting the ice bucket down on the desk and tying off the plastic bag inside.  He reached behind to the sink and took a hand towel from the rack. 

Otabek soon looked up to find his favorite Russian holding out a bag of ice toward him. 

“Take it…” coaxed the emerald eyed teen, “and I’ll push the night stand over and you can rest your leg on it.”

The Kazakh felt himself give in to the inevitable, taking the bag and watched Yuri pick up the stand and place it in front of him, while he occupied the couch.  He grimaced as he started to lift his leg, and then blushed feeling Yuri’s gentle hand on his right calf.

“We’re a fucking mess,” observed Yuri slowly lowering his companion’s leg onto a prepared pillow, “but we managed, right?”

“ _Us_ against _them_ , didn’t you say?”

The blond took a seat next to him, “Damn straight.  Fucking double footed landing screwed me over today…but I still got close.”  Yuri looked at the brunette and pursed his lips, “How fucked is it?”

Otabek looked down to feel a light hand resting on his knee and sighed, “It’s been like this for a while, but the swelling goes down, I need to land the quads if I’m going to beat Katsuki and JJ…”

“And me?” prompted Yuri, feeling Otabek place his hand over his.

“Yeah….and _you_ ,” he light heartedly replied with a grin, “How’s your head and don’t lie to me, you _little shit_.”  

Brown eyes regarded him quite seriously as the blond answered, “I get dizzy…it’s just a side effect…”

“Should you be skating?”

The Kazakh was sorry he had asked feeling Yuri pull his hand away from his.

“You don’t fucking want me here?” he spat with narrowed eyes, “And you’re one to talk, _Otaya_.  You could seriously fuck that knee up and it could cost you a season or—

The brunette raised his voice, “And if you hit your head again, you might not fucking wake up this time, _Yura_!”

Yuri’s eyes widened as though he had been slapped, what the fuck was happening?  He and Otabek never fought. 

There seemed to be a tension in the air between them and it was awkward as hell so the blonde shifted,

“I’m going to go…” announced the Russian with a clipped tone, swallowing down the other words that wanted to fly out—he had a big mouth, especially when upset.

He stood, grabbing his backpack from the floor and headed for the door.

“Yuri,” came a frustrated voice, “Yuri?  C’mon…”

The blond glared at the door handle in hand, hearing the Kazakh shifting and growled, “Don’t fuck up that knee, you _asshole_ …”

Sure enough, when he looked over his shoulder, Otabek was trying to get his leg down and was grimacing by his own stubbornness.  Yuri’s hand tightened on the door knob until finally he let go and turned, leaning his back against the door with his arms crossed.

“What?” he asked, rather curtly, fixing his annoyance on the brunette.

“Yuri…” he tried coaxing, but saw that the tiger wasn’t going to budge.

“Oi, leave your fucking leg elevated,” reprimanded the younger teen with a glare.

“Then get your ass over here,” offered the brunette with a look of frustration. 

Yuri pushed away from the door with a growl and practically stalked over to the room’s other occupant.  He stood in front of the Kazakh, hands in the pockets of his jacket and arched an eyebrow—that damn leg wasn’t elevated.

With an accompanying sigh, Otabek reached forward, his hands landing on Yuri’s hips and felt the blond allow for himself to be pulled closer.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” came the clear _no nonsense_ attitude Yuri was familiar with.

“Huh?” began the blond, taken aback, as he looked down at his companion, “I’m not made of sugar.  I don’t give a shit if you yelled at me.”

The Russian yelled quite frequently.  Perhaps it was the reasoning behind _why_ Otabek had yelled that bothered him.  Yuri wasn’t entirely stupid, headstrong, but not stupid.  He knew he was fortunate. 

“I shouldn’t have fucking yelled at you, _Yura_ ,” apologized the older teen once again, bowing his head against the blond’s chest.

Yuri looked away, trying to collect his thoughts,

_He’s tired.  We both are.  Otabek doesn’t need this shit..._

“Otabek,” began the Russian, still focusing on a random object in the room, “forget it.  We’re a team, right?”

NNN

They take to the ice for the 10 minute warm up before the free skate.  No one tries to watch the scores throughout the day, it only sets a skater up for failure. 

Each skater is announced, and the information is translated into a series of languages.  Yuri has one goal, just like the other four skaters on the ice—win.

As his name is announced, Yuri increases the speed around the corner and lands a triple.  The crowd graciously cheers in response, and he clears his mind once more.  For the most part, the Russian has always been able to silence his mind to the stress of the event—he hopes this time will be no different. 

He rounds the corner and passes JJ—he knows that _shithead_ has 5 quads planned for his free skate.  Yuri also knows that technical components aren’t what makes up the entire skate.  Canadians are big jumpers, less are classically trained in ballet though.  The Russian continues his assessment, noticing Viktor casually coaching Katsudon.  Katsudon’s anxiety often gets the better of him at competitions, but today he looks calm. 

Then there’s Otabek, and Yuri knows that the Kazakh’s knee is braced tightly.  Out of all of the competitors on the ice, Yuri’s biggest rival is _himself_.  He returns to the sidewall where Sergei and Lilia are standing and plants his palms on the wall before crouching down to stretch.      

Sergei leans over the wall, resting on his arms, “How you feeling, kid?”

Yuri looks up into brown eyes, “I’ll be alright.” 

His coach regards him seriously, “Change the program if you feel anything is off with your balance.”

The younger Russian nods in acceptance, “I will.”

_“Skaters, please leave the ice.  Warm up has ended.  The competition will resume shortly.”_

Everyone follows the direction of the announcer and returns to their coaching team to wait their turn.

NNN

Sergei is stretching with Yuri in the far corner of the room.  It’s important to keep the muscles loose and the nerves down.  Lilia occupies a bench, making small comments about posture adjustments.

Katsudon is currently on the ice—due to the demands of competing and coaching he needed to be scheduled further apart from Viktor.  Next will be Otabek, then Yuri, JJ and lastly will be Viktor.

Yuri lands a practice jump, raising both hands over his head and hears both Lilia and Sergei praise him over the soft music from the earbuds.  He turns his head slightly, to see JJ stretching against a wall.

No one really pays attention to the half muted television screen in the room.  When you go onto the ice, your only opponent can be yourself.  The accumulated points of the current leader can’t matter in that moment. 

Yuri thinks back to the last month, some things are a blur, while others are clear in his mind. 

_“Have you considered changing your free skate for Worlds?”_

_His new coach’s words catch him off guard and he stops in mid step to regard the man who skates alongside of him._

_Sergei’s brown eyes show his thoughts, “I mean, hear me out…if you get the okay to go, you’ll be in Italy.  Why not give the people something they can relate to?”_

_Yuri wiped the side of his face with the back of his gloved hand, “I’m listening.”_

_The brunette continued, “There are a great deal of Italian composures and artists that have compelling music.  You said that Otabek Altin is skating to Vivaldi?”_

_The younger Russian nodded, and listened as Sergei skated around him voicing his thoughts,_

_“So why don’t we give you a mature piece that has been modernized?” he seemed to watch Yuri’s expression and noted when the blond skated alongside of him, “It has also been covered by several Italians…”_

The Russian returns to his thoughts as Otabek walks past with his coach.  He removes one of his earbuds and gives a thumbs up.

“Davai.”

Otabek returns the gesture with the trace of a smile before proceeding up the stairs.

NNN

Yuri sits down, shuts the music off of his phone and alternates his attention between lacing up his skates and Otabek who takes the ice on the screen. 

Otabek’s attire is simple—black pants, white ruffled shirt, black vest and bowtie.  Yuri knows that the Kazakh really hates being _showy_.  He looks calm as he gets into position awaiting his music.

Half way through the skate and Yuri’s waiting with baited breath as Otabek lands his second quad.  He releases the breath he had unconsciously been holding and feels Sergei’s hand on his shoulder.

“Time to head up, Yuri,” comes the positive voice of his smiling coach.

NNN

By the time they enter the corridor the cheers are erupting from the stands and Yuri can hear them drowning out the music in his earbuds.

The children enter the ice to collect all of the toys and flowers being thrown, as Yuri takes off his skate guards and passes them to Lilia. 

She takes them and nods—wishing him good luck in her own way, as Sergei opens up the door and clasps a hand on Yuri’s shoulder.  The blond takes to the ice, getting in a warm up lap in amongst the scurrying children. 

NNN

The Russian has time to return to his coach while Otabek sits in the _Kiss and Cry_ awaiting his scores. 

Lilia reaches forward and fusses over his hair.  Its half pulled back—she hates it like that—the prima did manage to get a braid in there but Yuri doesn’t want it fully back today and Sergei had no comment on the matter. 

Sergei holds out his hand and the younger Russian takes hold of it. 

“You just need to skate clean kid,” he advises, clasping his other hand around Yuri’s and nodding, “I’m so friggin happy to have you on my team.”

Lilia looks like she’s about to pop a cork and Yuri can’t hide the smirk that makes its way to his face. 

He sincerely regards Sergei and nods, not sure what compels him as he says, “спасибо.” 

Lilia’s eyes manage to soften and she places her hand over her two students, “Good luck, Yuri Plisetsky.”

Yuri really hoped that his newly formed Team Russia wasn’t getting as campy as the prior.

NNN

_“Yuri Plisetsky of Russia!”_

_Male Commentator:_ Plisetsky recently changed his coaching staff and location.  The team has been together for less than a month.

_Female Commentator:_ It’s definitely a gamble when you change your team during a season.  Even more so, when it’s before the biggest competition of the senior division.  The seventeen year old, now coached by Sergei Ivanov will be skating to _Ave Maria_ by Thomas Spencer-Wortley. 

_Male:_ This routine was choreographed by Ivanov specifically for Plisetsky.  One can only imagine what he must be thinking as he goes into the free skate only five points behind Viktor Nikiforov. 

Yuri takes his position on the ice, in his outfit of a half red and half white long sleeved shirt, adorned in sequins that shine under the arena’s lights, with gloves (a solid white and a solid red), and an accompanying pair of black pants.

He pushes off slowly at the beginning of the music…

_Male:_ All of the jumps will be in the second half of this program, as we watch the artistic quality unfold.

_Female:_ I think people forget that the men can be just as artistic in the sport as the ladies.  That’s a beautiful spin, going into a Biellman, which few men possess the level of flexibility required for it.

_Male:_ Plisetsky is known to be a strong skater with his technique and versatile artistry, and has already sucked the audience into the emotion of the skate.

_Female:_ Another beautiful spin series…and it’s executed, dare I say it, so effortlessly?

_Male: (laughs)_ I’m sure it’s not, but Plisetsky makes it look that way, doesn’t he?

_Female:_ He’s definitely taking full advantage of his flexibility, as he glides across the ice in sweeping movements and his turns are on point. 

_Male:_ A spread eagle on the outside edge and look at the positioning.

(Side Camera pans in on Sergei as Yuri glides closer, who is going through the same movements)

_Female/Male:_ Oh!

_Female:_ That change in the music’s tempo completely caught me off guard.

_Male:_ That was a difficult entry to the first pass of the triple axel from the spread eagle!  Wow!

_Female:_ The height and execution.

_Male:_ Serpentine step sequences and deep lunges…into a triple flip!

(Camera pans as Yuri rounds the corner and Side Camera shows Sergei leaning forward on the wall, slapping his palm on the matting before pumping his fist in excitement).

_Male:_ Quad toe, triple toe, double loop…oh he fought for that one!

_Female:_ His coach knows it too!  Look at that face!

(Side Camera pans onto Sergei gesturing animatedly as if saying _Go, go, go!_ )

_Male:_ Second pass of the triple axel…and he’s got that too.

_Female:_ It’s hard to believe that Plisetsky had less than a month to practice this routine.

_Male:_ This is a beautifully executed layback Ina Bauer…

_Female:_ You mainly see the layback in women’s figure skating.  Oh, and look how he commands the audience’s attention from the position.

_Male:_ Less than a minute to go…

_Female:_ The fluidity of the circular steps and the Star Spin entry…he’s managed to keep the required speed and transitions into a Sit Spin…

(Camera pans in on Yuri coming out of the spin and glides toward Sergei and Lilia—who are both now leaning forward in anticipation).

_Female:_ A back counter entry into a quad loop?!

_Male:_ Where did that come from?!

_Female:_ To pull off a back counter entry, let alone a quad this late in the program.  Where is the mindset of this 17 year old?

_Male: (whistles)_ Yuri Plisetsky has given everything he has in this competition.  

(Camera pans on Yuri whose chest is heaving, bracing himself on his hands and knees in the middle of the ice)

NNN

Lilia passes Yuri his skate guards and no sooner does the blond get them on does he feel hands squeezing his shoulders. 

“That was amazing, kid!”  Sergei holds the teen at arm’s length, while his brown eyes can’t hide his excitement. 

“Well done, Yuri Plisetsky,” compliments the staunch woman at his side, placing her hand against his cheek.

NNN

Yuri had his score and felt he had given all he could.  He was tired as hell, his feet hurt and after Lilia had shared her congratulations, she had then given him the inquisition to check on his physical status.  He’d been instructed to sit and drink plenty of water.  

The blond currently occupied a bench, lying on his back with his earbuds in and eyes closed.

NNN

Yuri was shaken awake and nearly roared when Sergei’s face came into view.  His coach seemed to be saying something, so Yuri removed an earbud from his ear.

“…won…”

“What?” He sleepily responded to the brunette who had interrupted his cat nap. 

“You won…” breathlessly informed the brown eyed man, his bangs seeming to defy gravity as he leaned over the teen. 

Yuri’s eyes widened, “Seriously?”

“Damn straight,” affirmed Sergei with a proud smile, “You got gold, kid.”

The younger Russian sat up slowly, having taken the hand offered to him, his mind beginning to process the situation. 

“You got 15 minutes until medal ceremony…” urged his coach, trying to remove him from his current spot.

“Wait, who took silver and bronze?”  Yuri’s head was swimming from fatigue as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Nikiforov took silver,” he sounded proud, “and Otabek took bronze, Yuri.”

Yuri’s emerald eyes opened at the news.  _Yuri on Revolution_ had been a success.

NNN

Lilia was trying to fix his hair, (flattened and unruly after a short nap), as they waited to enter the ice.  Yuri could see the carpet being rolled out and the podium being set into place in the center of the ice.

“How do you feel?” she questioned, appraising him like a work of art, “You look pale.”

Sergei pointed to the score board flickering on the overhead screen.

_Yuri Plisetsky 318.40_

_Viktor Nikiforov 315.85_

_Otabek Altin 312.30_

“He’ll be fine, Lilia,” encouraged Sergei with a grin, “just a little shocked I’d assume.”

NNN

_“Winner of the Gold Medal from Russia: Yuri Plisetsky!”_

Yuri skated to the center amongst the cheers and the cameras, facing each side of the arena with a bow.  He turned to face the podium and acknowledged the ladies holding bouquets in their arms.  With a hidden smile he jumped onto the top tier of the podium and stood proudly facing the camera. 

_“Winner of the Silver Medal from Russia: Viktor Nikiforov!”_

Viktor skated out toward the center of the ice, cheerful as always and happily acknowledged the cheering crowds of well-wishers.  He turned and skated up to the podium, wearing black pants, a white top and suspenders, and stopped before Yuri.  He looked upward with a smile.

“Congratulations, Yuri,” he spoke to the teen.

“Huh?” The blond leaned forward because there was no way in hell he could hear what the old man was saying and blinked as Viktor caught him in a hug.

“I’m proud of you, _Yuratchka_ …” the living legend spoke sincerely into his ear over the roaring masses.

Yuri watched as Viktor took his place on his right of the podium, and straightened, before resuming his passive _I don’t give a shit_ expression.  Yet inwardly he thought, when did he stop caring about receiving Viktor’s acknowledgement?  Everything had changed when Viktor went to Japan.

_“Winner of the Bronze Medal from Kazakhstan: Otabek Altin!”_

Otabek skated toward the middle and waved graciously, stopping to face all sections of the audience before making his way toward the podium.  He stopped in front of Yuri and the blond’s expression cautioned that he better not pull a _Viktor_ and hug Yuri on International TV. 

The Kazakh smirked as they fist bumped before stepping onto the podium and taking his place on Yuri’s left. 

NNN

They soon stood as the President of the ISU came to each of them, presenting their medals and shaking hands for good measure.  The President of the Italian International Skating Federation presented each with a bouquet of flowers and a handshake to acknowledge their accomplishments.

The cameras moved in as the customary photos with the presidents took place.  They all nodded as the two gentlemen excused themselves and then the photographers moved in once more to take photos of the medalists.

Yuri held up his medal and then looked toward Otabek,

“C’mon…” he stated with the inclination of his head and watched as Otabek gave him a sideways glance and arched an eyebrow.  Yuri scowled, “Get up here,” he ordered, taking a step to the right. 

The Kazakh did as he was told and stepped onto the podium with the blond.  Yuri then looked toward his left, Viktor seemed happy but stuck in his own little reverie.

“Oi, Viktor!”  Yuri had a voice that could return anyone to the present.

Viktor looked _really_ happy…

Like _really fucking_ happy…

And Yuri was certain that he had made a poor ass decision as the older Russian beamed, taking the offered spot next to him.

There had best be no snot, tears or hugs because Yuri would seriously kick Viktor off this step.

NNN

_“Please turn your attention toward the raising of the flags with the Russian National Anthem…”_

Each man now occupied their own step of the podium, and Yuri felt a great sense of pride while watching not only one, but two Russian flags, raised along with the accompanying Kazakhstan flag.

Yuri watched Otabek who held a pleased look on his face at the sight of his country’s flag hanging for all to see.  He knew how powerful a moment this was for the Kazakh, who believed that he carried the weight of his country on his shoulders as their appointed hero. 

The Russian patriotically sang his country’s anthem and felt a tug as Viktor looped his arm with his and smiled,

“Shirokiy prostordiya mechty I dlya zhizni!”

(Wide spaces for dreams and for living!)

The two countrymen returned their attention toward the flags, waving proudly high above the arena.  Yuri could hear Viktor’s merging with his own and the other Russians audience and continued,

“Gryadushchiye nam otkryvayut goda!”

(Are opened for us by the coming years!)

Perhaps more so than ever, Viktor realized this to be true—perhaps his chapter in competitive skating was ending and the young were to take their place.  He looked toward his stoic former teammate and smiled, as the two continued in song. 

“Nam silu dayot nasha vernost’ Otchizne!”

(Our loyalty to our motherland gives us strength!)

Yuri tried not to roll his eyes on International TV—during his country’s national anthem no less— upon seeing Viktor conducting his imaginary orchestra and hanging onto the teen’s arm.

“Tak bylo, tak yest’ I tak budet vsegola!”

(Thus it was, this it is and will always be!)

Viktor’s arm tightened around Yuri—much to the latter’s outward dismay—but the tiger went with it and entered the last lines with just as much gusto as any good Russian son,

“Slav’sya strana! My gordimsya toboy!”

(Be glorious, our country! We are proud of you!)

And you know?  Viktor really was proud. 

NNN

Okay I hope you enjoyed.  Part One was pretty long I think.  Now that the men’s competition is over with it’s going to be a banquet, a gala and site seeing in Milan. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

 

 


	21. Mishaps in Milan Part 1

Author’s Notes:  Thank you as always for your continued support.  We need a mixture of humor, fluff and mayhem!

NNN

The trio do a final victory lap with flags draped across their shoulders.  Yuri leads the way, with an actual smile as the fans roar in response.  Viktor, hot on his heels, waves to those in the stands—while Otabek carries the rear, yet his stoicism may be cracking due to excitement.

Soon all three return to their coaching teams.  Yuri and Otabek fist bump before going separate ways, and Viktor quickly embraces Katsuki before even putting on his skate guards.  Yuri’s eyes meet Yakov’s as his former coach merely nods at the blond, shedding some of his gruff demeanor, and Yuri can’t help but spare a small smile.  He exits the ice as Lilia passes him his skate guards and Sergei shares the commemorative photos he’s taken on his phone.   

Before heading toward the locker room the new team shares a few words. 

“I’ve got to head back to Moscow after the press conference tomorrow morning,” informs his coach, “juniors start on Monday.”

Yuri’s eyes widen as Sergei’s hands cup his shoulders, “Kid, you were amazing today.”

The stands are emptying out and the other skaters have disappeared as his coach continues, “When you get back to Moscow next week, let me know your tutoring schedule and we’ll get your offseason hours slated.”

“Aa…” dumbly replies the blond with the nod of his head. 

NNN

Yuri follows behind his coaching staff and stops upon hearing someone yell his name. 

“Huh?”

Emerald eyes widen as he detects the voice coming from above, and his eyes settle on the small figure of a brunette with brown eyes leaning over the railing and waving a tiger plush in his direction.

“Yuri…Yuri…” she eagerly waves the toy as her mother smiles apologetically.

“Aa…” the tiger responds, his eyes softening a bit at her enthusiasm.

The little girl’s grin widens in excitement, for as he reaches toward the tiger, the Russian has taken a white carnation from the bouquet in hand and offers it as a fair trade.

Needless to say neither the cameras nor _Yuri’s Angels_ , (as evidenced by the squeals and flashing of bulbs), miss this.  The blond has probably unknowingly just recruited a future _angel_. 

NNN

By the time Yuri makes it to the locker room, he’s been bombarded by the usual sincere and obligatory insincere well-wishers along the way.  Sergei offered to take Lilia to dinner, and Yuri promised the prima that he could find his way back to the hotel without causing an international crisis.

He closes the door of his locker and sees the Kazakh standing nearby and smirks.

“We fucking did it,” observes the blond, his emerald eyes shining with mirth as his gloved hand plays with the black bowtie around the brunette’s collar, “You were seriously great today, _Otaya._ ”

Brown eyes soften in response, taking in those infamous emerald eyes, “We kicked ass.  You kicked everyone’s ass though.”

Yuri gives the bow tie one more tug and grins, “I told you, we’re fucking amazing.”

Before the blond can fully distance himself from the Kazakh, he leans forward and catches Yuri’s face in his hands and captures his lips. 

Upon feeling the younger teen respond, Otabek affirms that loving the Russian Ice Tiger is right up there with medaling in competition.   

NNN

He lets himself in after a soft knock, Yuri’s spare room key in hand.  His eyes fall on the blond, lying on his back on the room’s bed and talking on the phone.  The blond has his arm draped across his eyes, his blue hoodie unzipped and revealing a black tank top, his typical black skinny jeans and white socks covering the telltale signs of battle his feet have endured.

“Da, Dedushka…” he replies into the phone with a tone he rarely shows to anyone, before hanging up.

Otabek sits on the end of the bed, wearing his usual leather jacket and a gray sweater, for it’s still cool this time of the year.  “You alright?”

“Aa…” informs the blond, as he slowly drags his arm away from his face, and opens his eyes with a smile forming at the corners of his lips, “Dedushka, said he was really proud.”

A moment of silence passes between them.

“Did you talk to your family?”

Otabek’s brown eyes soften, “Yeah…”

“Were they happy?” prompts the blond, his ocean eyes gaging his friend’s expression. 

The Kazakh, not one for easily accepting compliments, nods.  “They were pleased.”

“They should be,” announces Yuri, sprawled out on the bed with a grin, “But _Otaya_ ,” his tone is serious, “you don’t have to carry the weight of your country all the time.  Just skate for yourself once in a while, because I think you’re fucking cool when you do.”

And the brunette can feel the blush creeping from his neck to his face and he has to look away to retain some of his dignity.  

NNN

They had spent the early evening at one of the many cafés in the Naviglio District.  The streetlamps in amongst the tall building lined area were burning, giving off an eerie glow in contrast to the setting sun and the darkening sky above, which reflected in the water over the canal system. 

The pair stood on the arched bridge, Yuri with phone in hand, had his arm wrapped around Otabek’s shoulders as he grinned before taking a selfie.  The Kazakh soon stared at the screen of the cell phone.  It was a good picture—he’d even managed a small smile.  It was hard not to be happy around the energetic blond. 

There were so many moments that he was fortunate enough to have with Yuri.  Hidden moments that Yuri didn’t show to many; he supposed they really were alike because the blond was usually quick to state that Otabek really wasn’t as stoic as he appeared—they just didn’t associate with _shitheads_.    

Yuri turned, looking down at the water in the canal, the wind gently blowing the ends of his hair.  The younger teen hardly ever went anywhere without sporting a hoodie—he almost always hid behind the fabric, a stark comparison to how he was on ice versus off.  His hood down, and the lights from the lamps dancing across his features, made Otabek’s heart race. 

The last time they had been on a bridge had been in Hasetsu.    

The Kazakh wasn’t aware that Yuri was gazing at their reflections in the pool below. The Russian wasn’t sure why being with Otabek felt this way— _comfortable_.  Outside of his grandfather, Yuri never felt this way, because people never stayed.  Yet no one had ever asked to be his friend, so that made Otabek unlike most people.  

He caught the soft smile on his best friend’s face, as it shown in the water’s reflection, as he leaned against the side of the bridge.  This felt vaguely like Hasetsu.  Before Otabek’s confession, how had Yuri thought of the Kazakh?  He was the greatest friend Yuri could have hoped for, yet the thought of him finding someone else to spend all of his time with, had lingered on the Russian’s mind.  They were complete opposites, he realized, one light in complexion, with pale eyes, the other bronzed with dark eyes. 

_This_. _Them_.  Could they really continue as they are?  It wouldn’t just all go to hell would it? 

A small boat neared the pair, distorting their reflection with its light rippling—what had been stable had just so easily come undone before their very eyes. 

“Yuri?” Otabek’s tone was more forceful than normal, as it jarred the blond from his thoughts.

“What?” he absentmindedly replies to the voice invading his thoughts. 

The Kazakh was leaning against the rail of the bridge, searching the Russian’s face with furrowed brows. 

“Are you alright?” he questions, bumping his elbow against his companion’s, “Where’d you go?”

“Aa.  I was just thinking this reminded me of Hasetsu,” the younger teen honestly admits.

Otabek looks down, already feeling the faint blush etching across his cheeks in the dimly lit area, “I was thinking the same thing.”

Yuri tilts his head, eyes expressive and blunt as always, “Do you ever regret it?”

The brunette’s forehead wrinkles in consternation, as he sighs, “Are you sorry I said anything?”

Yuri’s fingers tighten around the rail of the bridge as he gives Otabek his full attention, “Huh?”

“Everything changed.  _We_ changed is all…” sincerely states the Kazakh, averting his eyes to look upward at the fading pink hues of the sunset. 

“We did,” softly agrees Yuri, his gaze lingering on his companion, taking in the collected expression on his face.  Yet the Russian knows him well, he can see the way his breathing slows and the prominent swallow as Otabek stands there.

The brunette’s features hold a hint of nervousness and it makes Yuri wonder what would happen if Otabek was no longer around.

“I’ve never had anyone who wanted me before,” his honesty fills the small space between them, “not like _you_ ,” he quietly admits and shifts his gaze toward the water, “…so as long as you do, I won’t let you go either…”

Otabek can feel his heart swell, because he’s so in love with Yuri Plisetsky.

NNN

Yuri is busy peeking into a lit shop window, as music wafts through the air.  This district is full of life, and the streets are a tourist’s paradise, having been brought to the city by the competition.  Otabek’s disappeared into a shop to grab them each a chai. 

While in line Otabek hears a familiar voice and inwardly sighs.  He’d know that voice anywhere…it was an everyday occurrence back when he trained in Canada.  The slap on his shoulder verifies that he’s been seen by Canada’s own self-declared _King of the Ice._        

He’d love to grab his drinks and ignore JJ but that’s kind of impossible when the Canadian decides to strike up a conversation.  JJ’s observant…

“Hey, congrats on the Bronze.  Wait…two drinks?” he cheekily questions with a grin, “You on a date?  Isabella is outside, we can go double if you want to see the sites?”

Somehow Otabek’s managed to get JJ’s arm wrapped around his shoulders in the time it’s taken to retrieve the cups from the barista.  Yeah, he seriously can’t picture how a double date with Yuri and JJ in the same 5 mile radius would _ever_ work.  Not that he was crazy enough to ascertain such an idea. 

With a look of stoicism, he politely declines the invitation.  Yet like a leech, the Canadian refuses to relent.

“Are you with a skater?” JJ prods, reaching forward to grab the first drink made ready at the counter, “Or did you meet someone here?” 

Even when he was in Canada, they’d never been _chummy_.  Otabek wasn’t rude, since the Leroys were good enough to house him, but hanging out with that brood—anymore than necessary—hadn’t been high on his list.  Jesus, if he couldn’t shake JJ, the Kazakh could only imagine Yuri’s reaction.  He was pretty sure the blond would just leave him there in the middle of the city and hoof it back to the hotel _alone_.

“I’m with Yuri,” is Otabek’s straight-to-the-point answer.

JJ arches an eyebrow, and with a disappointed sigh, “Oh.  Well that’s not as fun as a date…”

_Says you._

NNN

When Otabek manages to get past JJ and out the door he looks around to find that the street is darker, with crowds of people, but the Russian isn’t in sight.  A frown appears on his face, perhaps Yuri really had seen JJ in the coffee shop and made a beeline for the hotel?

It would take him a moment to find a spot to set down the drinks in hand and fish out his cellphone from his jacket pocket.  No new messages.  Between the smell of various foods and the different styled music wafting in and out of the nearby establishments, it takes the Kazakh a moment to get his bearings. 

Soon he feels a hand on his shoulder and cringes, believing that JJ has once again latched onto him.  The brunette turns to find his favorite emerald eyed Russian and lets out a sigh of relief. 

Dodged a bullet that time.

NNN

“What’s the bear for?” asks Otabek while gesturing toward the strategically placed bear lying in the middle of the bed as they prepare to watch movies.

“Security,” flatly remarks Yuri, looking up from his phone, his thumb hovering mid scroll.

The Kazakh furrows his brows and manages an inquisitive look—no small feat for one who is normally so stoic. 

As if reading his mind, the blond elaborates, “Hasetsu…you thought I was your stuffed animal or some shit.”

The brunette goes to scoff, yet Yuri soon turns the screen of his phone, and exhibits the incriminating evidence. Otabek feels his face heat up, and the Russian’s Cheshire Cat grin lets him know that he is definitely sporting a blush. 

“Oh my God…” he deadpans, “You kept that?”

Yuri shrugs his shoulders, “What kind of _friend_ would I be if I didn’t keep photos for blackmail?”

A moment passes.

“A decent one?” observes the older teen with a smirk.

“Remember, _asshole_ ,” offhandedly remarks the emerald eyed boy, “you’re the one who asked me for my friendship.”

The Kazakh notes how unapologetic the blond looks and sighs, “Had I known you were such a _little shit_ …”

Yuri occupies the spot on the bed next to him, lying on his stomach, and resting his chin in hand, “You know, I may be taller than you some day,” he taunts, “then you’ll have to come up with a better insult.”

Although both know that there’s nothing behind their name calling other than affection—and the occasional spat.

The older teen absentmindedly pushes blond bangs away from the Russian’s face and tucks them behind his ear. 

“Yeah, _some day_...”

Another moment passes between them…

“There,” he murmurs, letting his fingers linger near Yuri’s ear, “Now I can see you rolling your eyes at me.”

He leans forward in anticipation…

And kisses a…

Pair of…

_Fuzzy_

Lips?

The Russian is heard snorting as he smooshes the bear against Otabek’s face.

One plush bear,

A shitty sense of humor,

And the expression on your best friend’s face…

_Priceless._

NNN

“Yuri?”  He’s disoriented and his voice is laced with sleep as he shields his eyes with the back of his hand from the brightly lit phone in Yuri’s hand.

“Fuck.  Prosti…”  

Otabek’s uncertain to why the Russian is apologizing, but even his sleep ridden brain registers that the blond’s voice sounds strained.

“…What’s wrong?”  The Kazakh’s mind urges him to ask, sparing a glance at the red numbers of the digital clock, through the slits of his fingers.

“Just go back to sleep…” mumbles the younger boy, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his hoodie before standing.

Otabek feels the mattress rise as Yuri’s weight leaves it and questions, “ _Yura_?”

He sits up in bed and can already feel the room’s cool temperature creating goosebumps on his exposed arms.  Brown eyes watch as the boy moves around quietly, using his phone as a flashlight, and it registers in Otabek’s mind that he must be looking for his sneakers.

“My fucking head hurts…”

The mumbled words hit a nerve…

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow…”

The Russian announces his departure and heads toward the door.

He nearly yells out an expletive as warm arms capture him from behind.

“Oi, what are you doing?!” comes the angry whisper from the blond as he awaits his captor’s answer.

The Kazakh isn’t exactly sure what compelled him, and his sleep lagged mind, can come up with no better reasoning than a whispered,

“Don’t go.”

NNN

“Does your head hurt often, _Yura_?”

The words linger between them awaiting a response.

“Aa...” is the honest reply, “mostly when I’m tired…”

Yesterday had been taxing on their bodies…

“Is this alright,” the Kazakh whispers, asking for consent.

“It’s fine…” affirms the tired voice of the blond.

They occupy the bed, having turned on one of the small lamps, which creates a subtle glow and elongates their shadows across the wall as they sit cross legged. 

The blond sits in front of his companion, facing forward and his back to the Kazakh.  His hoodie haphazardly falling off his shoulders as gentle hands massage his neck.  Yuri has placed his hair in a loose pony tail, and sits quietly before the brunette, whose fingers move to the base of his companion’s head.

It’s the most intimate they have ever been and the fact does not go unnoticed as Otabek quietly swallows, his fingers gently working through the knots in Yuri’s neck.  It’s a true testament of trust.  _Yuri_ , who doesn’t allow for anyone to touch him like this.  _Yuri_ , who doesn’t realize that he’s become such an integral piece of the Kazakh’s life. 

_There are many different types of love…_

He closes his eyes, remembering the words his grandmother once spoke. 

_Sometimes Beka, love stems from admiration…_

Yuri Plisetsky had the eyes of a soldier at that summer camp.

_And sometimes we’re lucky enough to have it blossom…_

Yuri Plisetsky had shaken his hand in Barcelona—an acceptance of his friendship.

_But you know what the best kind of love is, Beka?_

He can see his former self occupying a chair in his grandmother’s living room—looking stoic and bored as hell, because what thirteen year old boy wants to learn about love?  She’d poked him playfully, her brown eyes holding a glint of amusement. 

_The kind that makes you happy by just being near them._

His mouth is dry as he runs his tongue across his lips because he finally understands his grandmother’s words,

“ _Yura_?”

Otabek’s not certain that the word has left his mouth until he hears,

“Hmm?” 

“Is your head feeling better?”

His fingers stop their ministrations, feeling the softness of blond hair brushing against the back of his hand.

“Aa…”

The brunette wants to say, _I’m glad you’re here_ , but that’s lame as fuck.  In fact most of the ideas popping into his mind are far from _cool_.

When Yuri turns his head and fixes his gaze on the Kazakh, both emerald eyes are visible and they cause for Otabek’s breath to hitch. 

“Spasibo, _Otaya_ ,” he states with a tired grin.

Otabek’s eyes soften because it is he who feels thankful.

NNN

Press releases sucked.  In fact, Yuri was certain they sucked even more when they were scheduled early morning.  They at least had a fun day planned before tonight’s banquet.

Yuri currently occupied a seat at a long table with a white linen table cloth, with Otabek to his left and Viktor to his right, each sporting their official jackets and medals.  Their coaches were dealing with another branch of the media and fielding questions. 

“Aa,” began the blond answering the American journalist’s question, “I am happy to bring gold home.  Yes, I am enjoying my new coach.”

Otabek looked at Yuri out of the corner of his eye as camera bulbs flashed.  He had another _lame as fuck_ idea, and that was how Yuri’s English sounded cute.  He scowled, _cute_ was a Viktor and Katsuki term…and they had both decided that there could only be one sappy couple in this circuit.

“Well, I obviously did not get gold,” announced Viktor, he too was answering a reporter in English, and listened to the laughter fill the room, “But if I had to lose, then I’m glad it was to Yuri.”

Yuri gave Viktor the _side eye_ and tried to keep his smile in place, even if he did think that Viktor was an idiot. 

“Of course, I am glad I could bring a medal home to Kazakhstan,” informed Otabek.  While he hadn’t grown any fonder of press conferences, having Yuri with him made the situation less troublesome. 

Soon the flashing bulbs resumed as the trio stood, holding their medals up for the good of the occasion before being ushered out through the back of the room and into the corridor. 

“You two are coming right?” questioned the older Russian with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” informed the blond, pulling the hair tie and letting his hair fall back in front of his face. 

NNN

A group of skaters had been invited to check out the ski lodge which offered snowboarding and sledding too. 

Yuri looked down, occupying a seat on the ski lift next to Otabek.  In the seat ahead of them was Viktor and Katsuki.  Apparently Katsuki was perfectly content with his eyes closed, his voice holding his apprehension as he spoke in English,

“No! No!  Everything’s alright!”

Yuri and his companion shared a knowing look.  Everything was definitely not alright as Katsuki waved his hands frantically—obviously the Japanese man was afraid of heights.

Behind them were the eager voices of Leo and Guang, taking pictures of everything in sight. 

“Otabek? Yuri?” Leo called to the pair up ahead.

The couple turned toward the awaiting camera phones. 

“Smile!” happily requested Guang with a grin; his grin widened as they obliged.

Yuri turned facing forward once again, a frown graced his features as the voice of one annoying Canadian rang out from a few seats ahead of the lift line. 

“Shithead’s going to cause an avalanche if he keeps yelling like that…” he grumbled.

Otabek smirked, envisioning JJ yelling, ‘ _It’s JJ Style!’_ as the reverberation rang out and the snow caved in around them. 

“Are you going to ski or snowboard, Otabek?” questioned his companion, Yuri’s boot covered feet dangling as he glanced at the distance below.

“Whatever you do is fine,” honestly remarked the Kazakh, following suit and looking downward at the snow covered trails below. 

“Let’s go snowboarding,” offered Yuri, the antics from Viktor’s chair catching his attention.

The Russian was moving this way and that way, leaning here and there, which caused the chair to swing.  Viktor was busy remarking about the beautiful view…much to the recognizable dismay of his companion.

“Viktooooooor!” Katsuki was practically begging, “S-Stop!”

“Poor Katsudon,” mumbled Yuri as he watched the Japanese man’s pleas go unanswered, “Probably imaging plummeting to his death with that idiot.”

“If the line snaps,” the brunette remarked, a matter-of-factly, “He’s taking us with him.”

Yuri roared, “Oi!  Viktor knock it off!  Buta’s going to piss his pants!”

It was probably more for his own benefit than Katsuki’s, but Viktor did cease his antics.  Yuri let out a sigh of relief, he had leaned forward during his scolding and his hand had found Otabek’s knee.

“Aa…prosti…” he apologized.

“Don’t be,” the Kazakh informed, his glove covered hand settling on the back of his best friend’s, as he threaded his fingers through Yuri’s. 

The lift continued to climb higher heading toward its destination as Viktor’s sing song voice rang out,

“Oh, would you look at that,” he announced, holding onto his Yuuri and pointing below.

“No…I’m good…” was the response beside him, voice laced with apprehension.

The blond’s fingers tightened around the older teen’s, watching as a skier took a dive below.

“Maybe that will happen to JJ?”  He sounded rather hopeful.

Otabek really loved Yuri’s shitty sense of humor.

NNN

“Come on my little snow bunny…” eagerly coaxed Viktor with a lovesick smile.

Viktor and Katsuki who were standing on skis with poles in hand, waved as Yuri and Otabek came into view. 

“Yurio!” the pair happily greeted the teen, who was headed for the approaching slope, causing the blond to roll his eyes in response.

“Morons…” grumbled Yuri as he hit the slope with the Kazakh on his tail.

“How’s your knee?!” He raised his voice to be heard, knees bent and hand coming down to steady himself as he looked toward his companion.

“Good!” confirmed the brunette, feeling the snow crunch under the board as their speed increased.

They both wore sunglasses, the wind whipping past them; however, something other than the sounds of the groaning snow under their weight and the whistling wind entered their ears.

“Viktooooooor!”

Yuri turned before crying, “HUH?!”

The look on his face was enough to signal the train wreck which was coming…

Both narrowly managed to escape, as Katsudon cried out—arms flailing with no poles in hand, sailing past the two.

“Wow!  Amazing!” cheered Viktor, passing the two teens, who had skidded to a halt.

“They’re both idiots…” ascertained the blond, his sunglasses balanced at the end of his nose and emerald eyes harboring his disbelief.

Otabek merely sighed, watching as Katsuki veered off the trail headed into the woods…

“Yuuri!  Wait for me!” Viktor’s voice carried from below.

Over the sounds of breaking brush which caused the pair to grimace.

NNN

They’d returned the snowboards and stopped in at the lodge to warm up.  Leo and Guang occupied a couple of seats, phones out and comparing photos from their trip thus far. 

Yuri’s phone vibrated, taking it from his pocket as Otabek returned with mugs in hand. 

“Spasibo…” he distractedly said, taking the offered drink. 

The brunette sat on the cushion next to the Russian on the love seat and glanced toward the lit screen of the phone. 

Guang had shared the picture taken on the lift.  Yuri looked toward Otabek for approval.  It was a good picture, the mountain in the background and both had actually smiled.  The Kazakh nodded and took a sip of his cocoa. 

Katsuki and Viktor were in another corner of the lodge.  Viktor fawning over the Japanese man who had managed to have an eventful cross country ski.  In another corner of the room was JJ with his fiancée, discussing something animatedly. 

Otabek felt Yuri shift, leaning closer to him as he held his cup in hand.

“You okay?”  he questioned, fighting the urge to wrap his arm around the blond’s shoulders.

“Aa,” replied the Russian, who perhaps subconsciously was aware that they only had a few more days to spend together before the offseason.

Yet the brunette was fully aware of this as he watched Yuri sip his cocoa. 

Being in love with Yuri Plisetsky was becoming rather complicated as far as his heart was concerned…

NNN

Please review if you have a moment.  Your comments are always appreciated.  Stay tuned for the next part.

 

  

 

 

 


	22. Mishaps in Milan Part 2

Author’s Notes:  I really cannot say enough about those of you who have followed me from the beginning of this series.  I truly appreciate your encouraging words and constructive criticism.  I hope that you enjoy this segment, one more part in the works to wrap up Milan! 

 

NNN

Banquets weren’t really Yuri’s thing.  Hell…ever since that fateful day when a drunken Japanese man had challenged him to a dance off and later done a pole dance, he’d been leery of them.  The blond fixed his blue tie in the mirror and sighed.  He wore a freshly pressed royal blue suit, it was a gift from some sponsor, yet he couldn’t recall whose name was on the label.  Yuri always felt like some doll on display during these events.  If he wasn’t being coached on the ice, he was being coached about his social skills.  It wasn’t his fault he was inept when it came to etiquette…maybe if he had a mother who had given a shit about him, instead of dumping him on his grandfather’s doorstep?  Whatever. 

The Russian went through his orders for the evening—they had been served to him courtesy of Lilia:

_Pull your hair back in some manner._

He surveyed himself in the mirror—pony tail, sides escaping and resting against his cheeks.  Good enough…

_Remember to smile._

The upward tilt of his lips…looked more like a smirk than a smile.  He’d work on that.

_Wear your cufflinks._

The Russian gave a casual tug to each of his sleeves.

_Don’t have a crooked tie._

Yuri straightened that for the umpteenth time…and he hadn’t even left the hotel room!

_Don’t indulge in alcohol._

No fucking problem there!  Becoming Katsuki Yuuri was a nightmare he didn’t wish to pursue!

_Don’t use unattractive language._

In other words, _Don’t be myself…_

His emerald eyes shifted toward the door when he heard the click of the key card, the door reflected in the full length mirror before him.

Otabek slowly trudged into the room dressed all in black—ah yes, they seemed to resemble a pair of overly dressed monkeys more than they did themselves.  Yuri turned to face the Kazakh with a sigh, but the look in those chocolate brown eyes of his companion, caused the blond to blink.

“What’s wrong?”

The older teen rubbed his neck and gave a slight curl of his lips, “Nothing.  You just look…”

“Like an idiot?” offered Yuri with an accompanying shrug of his shoulders in emphasis.

But then the palm of the brunette’s hand was on Yuri’s cheek, pushing back the bangs he hadn’t bothered to secure in a ponytail.

“I was going to say _beautiful_ …” was his honest response, watching as Yuri scrunched up his nose and gave an exaggerated gag.

“That’s disgusting as hell, a _sshole_ ,” the Russian sounded offended, “I didn’t even pick this suit.”

The Kazakh began to create his apologies, but then his train of thought was immediately derailed when he felt the Russian’s lips cover his own and pull him closer to deepen the kiss, with a content sigh escaping, he knew... 

They were going to be late for the banquet…

NNN

Otabek knew that banquets sucked.  They were annoying and enforced a dress code— a gathering where competitors got together to partake in free food and alcohol, all the while putting on a good show for the journalists. 

He watched from afar as Yuri attempted to pry himself out of Mila’s grasp, somehow managing to keep a death grip on the plate of food in hand. 

Brown eyes shifted toward Viktor who certainly had no qualms about smiling for the cameras, while Katsuki happily observed his silver medalist fiancée sucking up the attention.  Yuri and Otabek however, attempted to stay out of the limelight.  In fact, they had found themselves a small table, dimly lit and in its own forgotten corner of the room, with a shit ton of hors d'oeuvres to consume.  Yuri threw himself into the chair next to Otabek’s with a sigh and loosened his tie before digging in.

This is what the Kazakh enjoyed, watching Yuri sample odd appetizers and the various expressions that would cross his features in response to them.  The brunette wasn’t sure that he would ever tire of the way his hand felt against the small of Yuri’s back, or the warmth from their shoulders pressing against one another.  Even as he obliged and let the emerald eyed teen place a questionable piece of food into his mouth, he’d continue to do so, just to see that radiant smile on his face.

Well, that was until the odd looking food hit Otabek’s pallet and he gagged.  He could hear Yuri’s snickering, as he sputtered and downed half a glass of water to rid himself of the offensive taste. 

Later they would be pulled into a photo booth by Leo and Guang, _forced_ to use random props and pose in a small cramped box. 

NNN   

The sound of muffled words enter his sleep ridden brain, and the softness of light caresses on his cheeks, forces his eyelids to open unearthing glassy almond eyes.  Otabek looks up to find a pair of ocean eyes peering down upon him.  Blond hair fans around him, as if defying gravity and a concerned expression meets the Kazakh’s gaze. 

“Oi…” the word is gently spoken and Otabek can feel the softness of skin, as Yuri’s hand brushes away dampness from his cheek, “…are you alright, _Otaya_?”

The room is dimly lit as he begins to process the situation.  They had returned to Yuri’s room after the banquet, snagged an assortment of goods from the vending machine, put on one of those _Cold Case_ drama series and at some point fallen asleep. 

Chocolate eyes shift in embarrassment at the realization that he was crying in his sleep from a nightmare.  Otabek feels like a fucking idiot as he bores a hole into the white wall beside the bed. 

Yuri scowls and takes his best friend’s face in his hand, “You didn’t answer my question,” he huffs.

“I just had a nightmare…” sourly grumbles the brunette, his face captive in the blond’s hand, and lips puckering from Yuri’s grip.

“Want to talk about it?” offers Yuri, relinquishing his grip when those almond irises settle on him. 

“Not really…”  Otabek states halfheartedly, sitting under the scrutiny of that steely gaze.

“Okay…” Yuri lets the subject rest before returning to his designated spot and lying on his side, back to his companion, “…don’t fucking scare me like that again…” he whispers, “you were crying in your sleep and I couldn’t wake you.”

NNN

Maybe it was from the images the nightmare had produced or it might have been due to the early morning hour?  The Kazakh turned on his side, wrapping an arm around a slender waist and pulling him closer.  He felt Yuri stiffen at first, but a mumbled, “sorry, _Yura_ ,” made the boy relax in his embrace. 

The lucid dream had unhinged him.  He closed his eyelids tightly trying to will away the lingering thoughts…

_He’d awoken in his hotel room in Milan and was hit with the realization that everything had been a dream.  Yuri Plisetsky was still in a hospital room in Saint Petersburg in a coma, he’d never won World’s and Otabek was no closer to his best friend than he had been a few months ago._

_The Kazakh had placed his arm over his eyes to cover the fact that he had been crying._

The brunette gently pressed his lips against Yuri’s bare shoulder.  The blond who had earlier gone lax in his arms, tilted his head,

“Are you fucking sure you’re alright,” questioned the emerald eyed teen, his voice holding his concern.

Otabek seemed to hide himself in the warmth of his companion and tiredly whispered, “I really love you, _Yura_.”

“Oi…” came the suspicious tone, eyebrow arched in emphasis, “you’re not terminal are you?”

The older teen chuckled, arms tightening around Yuri’s torso and burying his face in the side of his neck, “No, you _little shit_ …”

“For the record I’m not your damn teddy bear,” huffed the blond, but his voice held little conviction, “I’ll tolerate it because you’re an _asshole_ , but if you fucking drool on me, I’ll kick your ass.” 

A few minutes passed and Yuri was certain that Otabek had fallen back asleep when he heard a soft voice,

“Why do you let me do this?”

“Huh?”

He turned slightly to gage the Kazakh’s expression, but in the dimly lit room he couldn’t make out more than long lashes covering closed lids. 

“Do what?” asked the bewildered Russian, lips pursued in thought.  Serious conversations at two in the morning were not Yuri’s forte.

“ _This_ ,” reiterated the brunette, which caused the younger teen to roll his eyes. 

“I don’t let just _anyone_ near me, you know?”  He heard a contented sigh and felt his cheeks grow warmer. 

“Besides…,” Yuri softly informed. He turned, back now flat against the mattress, which caused Otabek’s head to fall toward his chest. “It should be pretty fucking obvious by now that we’re _together_ , right?”

The brunette’s breath hitched—the softly spoken words were like a secret between just the two of them and it made his heart swell.

Yuri blinked when Otabek murmured something in Kazakh before the feeling of warm lips pressed against his forehead.  The younger teen felt his face warm, not because he understood what had been said, but because of the emotion behind it. 

NNN

Yuri had fallen prey once more to the captive arms of his companion.  Otabek was a sound sleeper and every time the Russian had attempted to dislodge himself, it had only resulted in being pulled back in to the Kazakh’s embrace.  He’d even tried to use a pillow as a decoy, but somehow subconsciously, Otabek must have known because his brows would furrow in his sleep and his arms would securely fasten around Yuri once more. 

Earlier than 2016, if anyone had attempted to tell the Russian that he would meet some random skater in Barcelona, become his best friend, and later realize that they both shared feelings for one another, he would have told them to _fuck off_.    

Not that Yuri was big on feelings, but to himself, he’d admit that Otabek was the coolest fucking person he’d ever known (outside of his grandfather, of course), and that he was pleased that the Kazakh wanted him.  Jade eyes softened, as the boy gently pushed bangs away from the closed eyelids of his companion.  He smirked, hearing the brunette mumble something incoherently in his sleep. 

The Russian would make sure that his best friend knew how much he appreciated him.  That was why today’s plan was going to go off without a hitch! 

NNN  

“You’re going back to your room for a nap?” 

Otabek sounded rather suspicious—sure, he likened Yuri to a cat at times, but a nap right after lunch?  On a beautiful day?  When they only had a few more days together?

Yuri was thankful he had his overly large, (not to mention fashionable), black sunglasses on to cover his eyes.

“Yeah…I’ve got a headache…” he fabricated, watching as Leo shot a look of sympathy and Guang smiled as if he were trying not to give a way some sort of secret.

Otabek’s eyes seemed to flash a look of concern, “I’ll go—

“Don’t worry about it,” the Russian offhandedly remarked, “you guys should go shopping as planned, and I’ll meet you at the club this evening.”

Yuri quickly turned, putting a hand up in farewell and headed toward the hotel lobby’s elevator.  The blond soon heard Guang mentioning that he needed to call home, so he too would be returning to his room. 

“Well, I guess that just leaves the two of us, Otabek,” happily commented Leo, giving Otabek’s arm a playful punch, “It’ll be great catching up with you!”

Otabek seemed to nod in acceptance of his fate, shooting a look toward their other party members as they boarded the elevator.

Yuri and Guang faced the lobby.  Guang idly tapped away on his phone, Yuri stood with his hand in the pocket of his black skinny jeans, as they waited for the elevator door to close; however, the moment it did…

The blond slid the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and turned with a grin, slipping into English, “You ready?”

Guang gave a wide smile, clasping his hands in front of himself, and eyes reflecting his excitement, “Of course!”

NNN

Yuri wasn’t sure what could be taking Guang so long, therefore, he had done what all hot tempered Russians do, and banged on the boy’s hotel room door. 

The blond walked into a disaster area.  Clothes strewn this way and that way on the bed, over the desk, even the chair had been utilized.

“Huh?” He stood slack-jawed, looking between the aftermath of typhoon Guang and the teary eyed boy.

“I don’t know what to wear,” cried the Chinese teen, he looked frantic and placed his trust in his companion, “Leo always helps me!”

Yuri shut the door behind him with a sigh.  Luckily, fashion was not an issue for the blond…

NNN

“Wow…”  Guang looked at himself in the mirror several times.

Yuri gave a nod of approval, before tapping the directions to the club into his phone.

NNN

Otabek would rather take a nap with Yuri than go shopping, but Leo’s expectant smile told him he couldn’t be selfish and blow off his former rink mate—even if snuggling with Yuri was the better offer.  

The brunette had returned to his room to grab his jacket, for surely after the sun fell it would be a necessity.  They stood in front of a row of elevators before them—perhaps the hardest task while lodging at a hotel—which door would open? 

Ah yes, the familiar ding of the elevator as it—

Leo’s eyes widened as he came face-to-face with Yuri and Guang who looked like deer caught in the headlights. 

Otabek stoically made his way to the furthest elevator, contemplating if he should send Yuri a text to make sure he was alright.  Maybe it wasn’t too late get out of shopping?

Inside of the elevator, Yuri gestured frantically for Leo to _do something_ while Guang repeatedly pressed the down button on the control panel. Leo suddenly turned and waved his arms, trying to shield the inside of the car from view and deter Otabek from moving forward.

Otabek merely froze and blinked as Leo rambled, “We don’t want that elevator!  It looks quite full!  Let’s wait for the next one!”

A middle aged woman on the other side of the corridor pressed the elevator button on the wall and patiently awaited the returning car.

Unfortunately…

The door opened, before the elevator had actually descended, and a middle aged dark haired woman wheeled her suit case into the car with a smile, but Yuri’s eyes merely widened, for there in front of them was their wide eyed American friend.

Guang dramatically brought his hand to his mouth to silence the gasp itching to escape! 

Leo flung himself at Otabek and turned him toward the hallway window exclaiming, “Look at that!”

NNN

Otabek stood frozen in the hallway, Leo’s hands occupying his shoulders, holding him in place, as the older teen pointed toward a window with a potted planted on its sill. 

“That’s a beautiful plant, right?”  His voice didn’t sound too certain, but he laughed good-naturedly and let a silent sigh escape when he heard the hydraulics of the lift indicate its receding.

NNN

The Kazakh had made the decision to take the stairs after a hallway selfie in front of a potted plant.  He could only imagine what the rest of his afternoon would consist of…

NNN

Yuri and Guang had called for a cab.  The Russian watching the hotel entrance and Guang’s attention on the elevator doors.  They had the perfect stake out location, no problem, until the door way to the stairs opened…

NNN

Leo entered the lobby, holding the door for Otabek.  He cautiously looked around…

_Phew…looks like they made it…_

NNN

Yuri felt himself be pulled backwards, at first thinking it to be a hoard of rabid fangirls, and ready to put up a fight!  Yet he hissed to find it was merely Guang, who placed a hand over his mouth and put up his index finger with a silent _sshh…_

NNN

Leo blinked…

The teen had never seen such yellow or red blossoms before on a potted plant and…unless they had put something into his lunch…plant didn’t use muffled expletives.

He inwardly groaned as the optical illusion revealed itself before him.  Oh God, he needed a diversion and quick! 

NNN

They heard Leo announce rather loudly, “Otabek!  Look at this!”

Guang and Yuri, (frozen and hiding in amongst the foliage), watched as Leo placed an open newspaper directly in front of the Kazakh’s face.  

“Look, it’s your photo on well… _almost_ the front page of the paper,” the American anxiously announced, “It’s a good picture!  I think they got your good side…look, even _Yuri_ ,” waving his other hand behind his back as an indicator for the two to scram, “has a slight smile on his face.  We should keep this copy of the paper as a souvenir!”

Yuri, not one to waste an opportunity, grabbed hold of Guang and lunged for the doorway…

NNN

Otabek pushed the newspaper down from his face, in response to the sound of something falling and a woman announcing her disgust, as Leo stood frozen looking rather guilty.

Brown eyes narrowed a tad, and brows furrowed as the brunette stated, “Is something wrong?”

_What the hell did they put in his water at lunch?_

Leo surely hoped to God that nothing was wrong as he slowly gave a glance behind his shoulder and found nothing behind him but two potted plants.  His eyes quickly surveyed the area…woman picking up her emptied purse as if knocked out of her hand by some unseen force, desk clerk, people checking in, baggage rail, Yuri in amongst hanging suits, bus boy, cab driver, barking dog, Guang crunched behind a wheeled suit case…

_Oh.My.God._

“Nope…” he stated with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head, “Maybe I’m a little tired from all of the excitement over the last few days?”

The baggage rail headed toward the exit as the American watched Guang taking a selfie before giving a thumbs up. 

“If you’re sure there’s nothing else,” inquired the Kazakh, attempting to look stoic, hands in his pockets.

Leo winced as he watched Yuri jump off the cart, dragging Guang and narrowly missing a car as they ran across the street with the honking of a car horn and an Italian curse following them.   “Nothing at all…”

NNN

What does Yuri have planned?  Why are Guang and Leo in on it?  Stay tuned for the final _Mishaps in Milan_ and be sure to leave a review if you have a moment please!


	23. Mishap 3: Have it All

Author’s Notes:  Such a busy season for me!  I have been working on this for weeks, a paragraph here and there and low and behold, it’s been 2 months!  I apologize for any errors.  As always I do not own any of the lyrics or songs used.   Let’s wrap up Milan and head into the off season.

 

NNN

The Kazakh has all but given up, sparing a glance toward the clock which depicts it’s after two in the morning.  He leaves the lobby and makes his way slowly through the corridor.  Even if Viktor and Katsuki weren’t in the same hotel, he still wouldn’t wake them—especially when he’s not even sure of the blond’s current location.  Besides, if he involved those two, the brunette is certain that Yuri would never forgive him.

The Russian isn’t stupid.  Young and temperamental, but not stupid—far from any damsel in distress, with that voice and those powerful kicks.  Yuri’s also good with directions and navigating in a city, so it’s not as though he’s lost.  Therefore, Otabek’s left with the realization that if Yuri isn’t there now, it’s of his own accord.  

_“Was he upset when he left?”  coaxed the Kazakh, eyes widening at the news._

_Guang shook his head, smiling at the brunette, “No.  Yuri thanked Leo and myself and then said he was going to walk for a bit before calling a cab.”_

Yuri hasn’t returned to his room, hasn’t responded to a single text, and Otabek is filled with a longing to apologize for his actions.  After passing the vending machines, the teen stops and leans against the adjacent wall, idly fingering the spare key card in his hand.

_He came back to slide the card under my door…_

The small piece of plastic seems to hold a great amount of weight—he takes a deep breath, his chest seems to constrict painfully from the emotion it produces, as he stands with his shoulders slumping forward. 

_God, I really fucked up…_

NNN

_Earlier…_

They had decided to meet at B38—a super popular VIP nightclub in downtown Milan.  It just so happened that Leo was friends with practically everyone on social media and had some amazing strings to pull in favors.  After being carded, the duo had made their way toward one of the two bars housed in the establishment—under the fluorescent purple and pink lights etching across the glass walls—giving it the feeling of being an open air room.   Its dance floor was well known for being made of glass and suspended over water, making it a hotspot for elites.  Yet, the reason why they were there tonight was because Otabek’s favorite DJ was on the lineup. 

The atmosphere and the venue itself were unlike any of the small clubs the Kazakh had disc jockeyed at, and even though it was still early, the crowds had already settled into various corners of the room.  Almond eyes surveyed the room, spotting couples mingling in amongst groups—the brushing of hands, affectionate whispers in ears, stolen kisses, but nothing prepared him for this…

Otabek wasn’t accustomed to the feeling that had worked its way into the pit of his stomach.  The skater had experienced envy, but never this…

No, this feeling brought on by a simple interaction, as he watched the Russian occupy a corner table with a man who appeared to be in University—this feeling the Kazakh did not want to name.  Otabek didn’t want to listen to the little voice in the back of his mind as he slowly swallowed; the one that creeped closer to the front of his brain as Yuri leaned forward in conversation.  The voice that observed how Yuri’s eyes widened as his spoke of something that held his interest.  Nor did the Kazakh want to acknowledge it as Yuri’s dark haired companion rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table with a smile gracing his features—the blond obviously holding his attention.

Otabek’s brows furrowed.  What did it matter if Yuri was talking to some guy?

It actually mattered a lot.  Yuri had been the teen’s inspiration for years.  In fact, it was that boy’s eyes and natural ability which had ignited a flame inside of the Kazakh to not give up his dream of becoming a competitive skater.  It was hard work, traveling to America and Canada to train before returning home—entering the Grand Prix as a d _ark horse_ from an unknown country.  Hadn’t his mother always said, if you want something badly enough you have to fight for it? 

Well at the moment, he really just wanted Yuri. 

Of course, this was _Yuri_.  Yuri, who was impulsive and vivacious…

Otabek could feel the frown on his lips.  Yuri: who was oblivious to how attractive he was, which only added to the unease in the pit of the Kazakh’s stomach.  He wouldn’t call this feeling what he suspected…

_Shit._

He turned back toward the bar as Leo slid a glass bottle his way with a pleasant smile.

“You, okay?” he good naturedly inquired while occupying the bar stool next to the brunette with an arched eyebrow for emphasis.

“Fine,” was the clipped response as the Kazakh took a swig of beer from the bottle.

“If you say so…” Leo continued onward, “This club is really hard to get into.  It has great reviews. Are you going to dance?  The dance floor looks amazing!”

He might have agreed to anything, only half hearing what the American was stating next to him—the wave of excitement failing to reach him.   

Otabek felt the brushing of a thigh against his own as someone settled in on the barstool next to him.  He glanced toward the mirror behind the bar and immediately recognized the blond.

“Hey,” Yuri called over the bass of the speaker with an accompanying grin. 

Yuri looked attractive, a little _too_ attractive, as he shrugged off his black jacket to reveal a silver tank top, black skinny jeans and combat boots.  This did not settle well with the brunette…yet bad mood be damned because Yuri leaned forward, giving Otabek his full attention and bumped his elbow.

Guang had popped up like one of those Jack-in-the-Box toys and had secured an arm around Leo.  Otabek’s eyebrow lifted, taking in Guang’s red tank top, white unbuttoned blazer with the sleeves rolled up, with black jeans and Converse sneakers.  Leo was gushing about how cool Guang looked as the two clicked a selfie.    

Yuri’s face held a look of approval as he leaned his back toward Otabek’s chest and turned his head.  Otabek’s breath hitched upon realizing he’d fall victim to those pools of ocean green any day of the week. 

“He looks great, right?” asked the Russian, yet his forehead creased as he noticed the expression on his best friend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he stated with a small smile, “You did a good job.”

Yuri felt a gentle hand rest on the inside of his hip.  They weren’t known for being intimate in public, but something had obviously triggered it.  “Let’s hope the music is good tonight.” 

NNN

Guang had been up first chance he got.  Grabbing Leo and leaving Otabek and Yuri at the bar, as they made their way to the dance floor. 

They had continued some small talk; was Otabek excited to see his favorite DJ live?  Also, Yuri was really glad to be here with the brunette.  And the Kazakh was starting to realize his feelings earlier had been uncalled for…or so he thought…

It wasn’t that Otabek wanted to dance, he was happy to watch the duo exhibiting more energy than appeared to be required, as he sat with Leo.  It just struck a nerve that the dark haired man from previously approached Yuri while he and Guang were on the dance floor. 

It struck a deeper chord when he watched the guy take hold of Yuri’s elbow and usher him toward the back leading to another section of the club.

NNN

Leo had turned around to ask Otabek if he wanted another beer when he noticed the barstool next to his was vacant.  Dark eyes scanned the area, but a vibration from his pocket indicated a text.

**Guang:** EMERGENCY!

Leo sighed and quickly began typing…

NNN

By the time the brunette had entered the corridor he had lost sight of the blond.  What the hell was going on?  He stopped dead in his tracks at that realization.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Wrapped up in his thoughts he didn’t see Leo and Guang nearly collide in their pursuit of stalling him.  The two seemed to be having some pantomime behind him, gesturing frantically to run and hide or merely announce themselves.

Otabek turned and the two froze, like deer caught in the headlights. 

“Uh…is the bathroom this way?” nervously questioned Leo, rubbing the back of his head.

“Let’s all go!”  chimed in Guang with a very happy grin. 

The pair somehow managed to push Otabek out of the corridor and back toward the dance floor.  The Kazakh didn’t put up much of a fight, yet his confusion was evident, and written in the lines of his crinkling forehead.  

NNN

What had happened next was really a big misunderstanding.  Yuri had been seen leaving the corridor with the University student, and by the time the blond had returned to the Kazakh’s side the shit was already piling high. 

“Where were you?”

He probably hadn’t meant for it to be so accusatory…or had he?  Maybe it was the alcohol talking…how many beers had he had tonight?  Two?  Three?

“Walking around.”  Had been Yuri’s immediate answer.  “Hey isn’t DJ Pashka supposed to be up in just a few minutes?”

The brunette had scowled, “Look Yuri, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but—

And from there a “Huh?”  had rung out. 

Yuri had gone to stop Otabek from leaving, yet he had managed to shake the blond’s hand off of his arm. 

“Leave me the hell alone, Yuri.”

And there hadn’t been any more to say because Otabek had left Yuri standing in the corridor. 

…

Otabek had gone to the restroom.  He hadn’t been pleased with the face staring back at him in the mirror.  That face seem to state, “ _You really are an asshole.”_

The Kazakh couldn’t agree more.  First thing to do was to man up and go apologize to the Russian.  He’d have to eat a bit of crow and explain that he let his jealousy get the better of him.  With a deep breath he opened the bathroom door and was taken aback as a song started over the mics.

_That’s my music!_    

The truth had come in the form of Leo and Guang practically attacking him the moment he left the bathroom. 

“How?”

Apparently Yuri had asked Leo and Guang for their help.  Leo had gotten them into the club, and found out that DJ Pashka’s friend would be attending early.  Yuri and Guang had arrived and weaseled their way in to meet with Andrea’.  Yuri had persuaded him to give a flash drive to Pashka…and now Otabek’s music was wafting over the speaker system. 

Otabek’s world stood still for a moment, the cheers from the crowd, the bodies moving on the dance floor, the amped bass from the speakers and the looks of excitement on his companions’ faces…but no Russian. 

NNN

Yuri had stayed to see Otabek’s reaction to his music being played, as he rubbed his arm and stood in a corner of the room. 

“Hey,” came a thick Italian accent.

Yuri looked up to see Andrea’ standing next to him with a grin.  “You were right, Pashka loved this song.  He’s going to meet your friend during his first break.”

The blond nodded but his smile didn’t reach his jade eyes. 

“You should come,” urged the dark haired man, “you made this all possible after all.”

Yuri shrugged it off, “Nah.  This is Otabek’s moment.” 

And soon after Yuri had left. 

…

He’d walked alone for a while lost in his thoughts.  In reality, Otabek’s words had cut a little deeper than intended…for there was once a blond woman in Yuri’s childhood who used to say,

_“Leave me the hell alone, Yuri.”_

This was pretty common back then.  He would offer to make her feel better and soon after she’d utter those words and shut the bedroom door in his face.  The little boy would sigh, for such was his fate, pick up his cat on the way to the kitchen and search the cupboards for something to eat for dinner that evening. 

NNN

_Present…_

The smell of chlorine enters his nose causing the Kazakh to look up from his thoughts; the glass door to the pool room is bathed in an eerie glow—created by the flowing water as its shadow moves against the glass.  The teen pushes himself off the wall and starts forward, yet his breath hitches as he looks closer.

The brunette feels his heart swell, as his brown eyes wander to a pale form under the sliver of moonlight that has entered the room.  The moonlight had become Otabek’s own searchlight; its glow revealing the figure lying in the lounge chair, near the edge of the pool with its shimmering waters.  He felt compelled to follow the offered beacon, sliding his key card into the door before slowly taking hold of the doorknob in hand.

The Russian appears ethereal illuminated under the white-silver glow, his blond hair almost white, skin paler than usual against the silver tank top adorning his torso.  His head resting on his bent arm, jacket having been folded as a pillow, gazing upward with earbuds in and legs stretched out crossed at the ankles.

Brown eyes tore themselves away to look upward finding a glass ceiling, displaying the deep velvety star filled sky above them.  Otabek returned his gaze to the blond, the younger boy’s low humming blending with the trickling of flowing water.  Almond eyes were anchored to him—a modern _Adonis_ if ever there were such a thing.   

Otabek felt himself under a heavy spell, body unable to move from its spot, as those emerald irises glanced sideways.  Yuri quietly removed one of the earbuds and cocked a pale brow in surprise,

“Otabek?” 

The voice was so quiet, that the Kazakh was afraid he might have missed it over the pounding of his pulse.  Yuri’s gaze locks with his dark eyed companion—his eyes seem to be speaking volumes.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers his inquiry, unknowingly unhinging the brunette.

Yuri, should be mad.  He has every right to be angry with the Kazakh…so why isn’t he yelling?  Instead his eyes hold concern...

“Oi?!”  The Russian asks with urgency, feeling himself locked in a crushing embrace.  Otabek sits before him, face hiding in the crook of Yuri’s neck, as the blond hesitantly wraps his arms around the larger man.  “Did something happen?”

“Where have you been, _Yura_ ,” he breathlessly asks of the blond. 

“Huh?” inquires the baffled teen, “You were looking for me?”

“I looked everywhere,” admits the brown eyed teen, “you didn’t answer your phone and you left the club without telling me.”

“Aa…” mumbles the Russian, feeling a tinge of guilt, but soon frowns, “you wanted to be left alone.”

And sure as shit it goes south fast when Otabek admits his mistake…

“Huh?  You thought what?!” 

There really isn’t a way to describe the animosity in Yuri’s voice, yet the look which the Russian Ice Tiger shoots at him, leaves the brunette nervously rubbing the back of his neck.  Perhaps he should have occupied a chair further away because Yuri appears to be 5 seconds short of hitting him.

“Ow…” the Kazakh manages to puff out after being sucker punched in the gut by one of Yuri’s fists. “Yup…I deserved that…” 

Appearances aside: Angry people are fucking strong.

Otabek receives no sympathy from the blond, who continues to berate him.  Thankfully it wasn’t his foot, so that’s got to mean that Yuri still cares.

“You really are an asshole,” huffs the blond as he unceremoniously sits back down on the chair across from the Kazakh and glares, “Why would I hook up with some guy I don’t even know?”

No good answers are coming to mind…and if he waits too long to answer, Otabek’s afraid Yuri’s going to hit him again.

“You wouldn’t?” offers the brunette, knitting his brows at the steely gaze of his companion. 

“Fucking right, I wouldn’t…” Yuri’s voice isn’t as loud as before, his fingers clench the material around his knees, “The fuck, _Otaya_ …”

The Kazakh looks up and it’s as though the storm has been subdued in those ocean eyes, the waters settling like their very emotions and he’s pulled in by their depths. 

“I’m sorry…” whispers the brown eyed boy, placing his hand over the back of Yuri’s, “really fucking sorry, _Yura_.”

“You should be,” remarks the Russian averting his eyes and pursing his lips, “I’m not some kind of shit friend who would—

Yuri’s eyes widen, at the force of Otabek’s firm lips seizing his own.

“I know,” breathlessly whispers his best friend, “…I just forgot…”

He feels the blond’s gentle fingers at the back of his head and tilts his head to return the kiss. 

Brown eyes open and he frowns when the Russian halts his ministrations, his hand cupping the side of the boy’s warm face. 

Yuri, has one eye open and a grin, “Don’t do it again, _asshole_.”

Otabek returns the grin and promises, “I won’t—

Before Yuri’s warm lips cover his own once again.

NNN

Yuri let out a laugh, at the sight of his companion as he resurfaced in the pool with a sputter.

If looks could kill…

“You kicked me,” the Kazakh’s voice held an accusatory tone.  A frown plastered on his face and brows knitted in distaste.

They had decided on impulse to strip down to boxers and go for a swim…because you only live once, right?

The Russian shrugged before jumping in with a grin, and causing a splash.  He resurfaced, pushing his hair away from his face.  The brunette wasted no time, as he secured a grip around his companion’s waist and hoisted Yuri up over his shoulder. 

“Stop flailing around you, _little shit_ ,” teased the older teen with a chuckle.

“Like hell I will,” challenged the blond, as they both fell forward with an accompanied splash which echoed across the quiet room.

The glass ceiling provided more than enough light for the two, as they stood in the middle of the heated pool, bathed in the incandescent light from above.  Since neither were extremely tall the water almost touched their collar bones.  The smell of chlorine was heavy but the soft trickling of moving water was calming, as it casted shadows across their figures.

“You look like a drowned rat,” observed the Kazakh, ruffling Yuri’s hair.

“Oh?” began the blond, gently slapping Otabek’s hand away,  “At least I don’t look like a dog who got a raw deal at the groomers,” was the Russian’s generous tit for tat.

Yuri’s challenging glare met the Kazakh’s until their expressions faltered and both laughed.

“I’m fucking glad you’re my best friend,” announced the charismatic teen with a sincere smile.

Otabek’s brown eyes softened as he stood before his companion, feeling the warm water calmly brushing against his skin. 

Yuri’s face held a meaningful look, holding out his fist toward the dark haired boy, “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather date, you know?”

The Kazakh was happy with Yuri’s assessment, as he bumped his knuckles against his companion’s, “I feel the same way.”

NNN

Yuri ran the towel through his hair sitting at the edge of the pool with legs dangling in the water.

“So this is it for the season,” he quietly mentioned, giving his companion a sideways glance.

“Yeah…” his dark haired companion murmured, occupying a spot next to the blond, towel draped across his shoulders, catching drops of water from his hair as he stared into the darkened water.

“Let’s hang out after the Exhibition Skate tomorrow.”

Otabek found himself taking the blond’s hand and lacing their fingers together.  This would be their first off season as a couple. 

“I’m fucking sorry that I can’t come to Almaty,” stated the Russian quite a matter-of-factly, with a shrug for good measure, “Had to go and fuck up my head and all.” 

His face held a grin but it soon gave way to a look of confusion as the Kazakh embraced him.

“None of that matters, _Yura_ …”

It was the same sincere tone in which Otabek had spoken the other night in his hotel room.  The blond felt his companion kiss the side of his head and affectionately give him a squeeze.

“You woke up…” he murmured into the boy’s hair, “and I got to stand on the podium with you at World’s.”

The brunette let a contented sigh escape his lips at the feeling of Yuri’s arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

“You’re such a fucking sap, _Otaya_ ,” the younger teen teased, his cheek now pressing against his companion’s. 

Otabek chuckled, enjoying the warmth as they occupied the edge of the pool.  “Want to come back to my room and find some horrid slasher movie to fall asleep to?”

“Duh!”

NNN

The exhibition goes off with a bang.  The song chosen for the closing is “ _Have it All”_ by Jason Mraz.  It seems to be fitting, as the lyrics fill the arena, they seem to hit home especially when Yuri takes his place next to Otabek as the men enter the skate.

_Well here's to the hearts that you're gonna break_

_Here's to the lives that you're gonna change_

_Here's to the infinite possible ways to love you_

_I want you to have it_

The cheering of the crowds is dull in comparison to the height of the moment. 

 

_Oh, I want you to have it all_

_All you can imagine_

_All, no matter what your path is_

_If you believe it then anything can happen_

Otabek lands a triple, followed by Viktor and Katsuki as they part and await this year’s gold medalist…

_Go, go, go raise your glasses_

Who executes a perfect quad, and receives cheers from his countryman. 

 

_Go, go, go you can have it all_

Yuri quickly takes Otabek’s hand, their fingers lacing and grins as they hurry to join Viktor and Katsuki.  The group sets off in a run toward the center of the ice and form a train with all of the other attendees. 

_Here's to the good times we're gonna have_

The cool air hits their faces as they create a united front before the world.

_Here's to you always making me laugh_

Their eyes lock momentarily, a happiness behind them that cannot be shared in words.

_Here's to the fact that I'll be sad without you_

A contentment for knowing one another as they enter the offseason.

_I want you to have it all_

NNN

This chapter was in response to the senseless loss of Denis Ten.  My heart just aches!  Not only was he a remarkable athlete but an outstanding person.  He was the inspiration behind Otabek Altin and the world will surely miss his competitive edge. May he _have it all_ and more, as he entertains the angels now.

 


	24. Cruising into Love

Author’s Notes:  Welcome to the off season…where adventure awaits!  I apologize for any errors in advance.  It's a nice long one for you to enjoy. 

 

NNN

Otabek’s supposed to be working on this mathematical equation that his tutor keeps telling him to finish.  That might be easier if his mind hadn’t wandered to a certain green eyed blond with a shitty sense of humor. 

“Mr. Altin?”

“Aa…”

Otabek’s pencil scribbles down the next part under the watchful eye of the staunch middle aged man—no doubt being well paid for his time that afternoon.

“Very good,” comes the approval, “Please move on to the next one.”

How many more days until vacation?

NNN

Yuri is on the ice with Sergei.  It’s such an amazing contrast from his training with Yakov.  If Yuri were honest, Yakov was an amazing trainer and he owed the man so much; however, being with Sergei was completely invigorating.  Sergei was the one to choreograph, with Lilia now on the sidelines for ballet instruction.  The prima said that it allowed for her to have more free time.  Yuri believed it was more time for her to beat his ass into submission in the studio. 

Sergei did every step with the younger Russian.  Each jump, each position, and every move was done with careful consideration—he even asked Yuri what he would like to do next. 

Twelve hours a week were spent on skating, while the rest of the week was devoted to schooling.  Yuri was now a second year and being back in Moscow allowed for him to juggle skating, school and grandpa. 

For the first time in his life, things were going so well.  He had returned to Moscow, recovered from a serious injury, had a fucking cool coach and had won gold at Worlds.  Yuri would be moving into his own flat in just another month or so, centrally located between the rink and his grandfather, and in a few weeks he was going to see Otabek.  

“Can we run it again from the top, kid?”

Sergei’s voice interrupted the boy’s thoughts as he gave a nod.  They were adding the music today to the choreography—Puccini for the short program this season. 

He and the young coach mirrored one another before taking flight as the aria filled the rink. 

NNN

By lunch time Otabek couldn’t help but grin around the carrot stick in his mouth.  He had to hand it to the little girls at the Moscow rink. 

_“Our World Champ is practicing!!!”_

Perhaps the heart emojis coming from _Angels_ across the Youtube video’s comment section were indication of their approval?

Probably knowing that they would get holy hell for posting the video with sound, it had been recorded on mute.  That was fine.  The Kazakh’s eyes softened at the artistry between coach and student—whatever the song choice, Yuri was beautiful.

“Mr. Altin, it’s time to continue.”

The passive teen sighed.  He’d rather look at his gorgeous and talented boyfriend over this dry douche’ bag and his algebraic equations. 

Yet he turned to face appointed douche’ bag, with a smile and replied, “Coming, Sir.”

NNN

How this vacation had come about was a bit of an oddity; however, even oddities paid off…

At the banquet, there had been a raffle, and no one had really given it much thought.  That was until Katsuki Yuuri had gotten a phone call.

And that had been the start of Viktor’s hugging.  Yuri’s phone ringing and Otabek receiving a text message for a Skype request.

Now 3 months later, Otabek was waiting to collect his bags from the terminal at the Lisbon International Airport, all because Katsuki had won two suites aboard a _Silversea_ luxury liner.  In ten days the Kazakh would travel from Portugal to Spain with two Russians and a Japanese man.

God willing—the boat wouldn’t sink.

A vibration from his pocket brought a smile to his lips.

NNN

Yuri made his way to the terminal, pulling his cheetah print suitcase in tow.  It was early afternoon in Lisbon, their cruise wasn’t to set sail until evening, while Viktor and Katsudon would arrive a few hours prior to departure. 

That meant that he and his best friend, who had now come into view, would have a few hours to catch up.  The blond couldn’t push down the grin that had etched itself across his face as he set forward with all of the stealth of the cat he likened himself to.

NNN

Otabek was looking down at the phone in his hand.  No response from Yuri since he landed.  It’s not like he was over the top in love with—

The brunette let out a startled gasp feeling arms wrap around his neck as he staggered forward.  Brown eyes met a pair of mischievous emerald ones and the Kazakh felt his heart stutter.

Yuri hopped down with a satisfied smirk, “Miss me?”

Otabek’s crushing hug spoke volumes as they embraced at the baggage claim.

NNN

They occupied a park bench under a shady tree and were sampling _pastel de nata_ , a Portuguese custard cup, from a local vendor.  The cinnamon and icing were a dangerous combo from the sweet pastry, but _When in Rome_ as they say—besides, it was the off season.

Otabek had managed to lace his fingers in between Yuri’s, knowing that once Viktor and Katsuki arrived on the scene, all of the peace and quiet would go up in flames.  The Kazakh absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over his companion’s.  Three months and they were now together again for an entire week, and if all went well, they would be together again in September before being selected for the Grand Prix qualifiers. 

NNN

“Holy shit…”

Those words didn’t even begin to express the suite the two of them had walked into on the cruise ship the _Silver Spirit._ Both of their eyes widened at the view as they slowly dropped their luggage to the floor. 

“It’s the size of my entire flat,” stoically observed the brunette.

“I’ve never seen such a fucking huge bed in my life,” exclaimed the Russian, “You could fit a small army on this thing!”

Their room was located on the upper deck, listed as a _Superior Veranda_ with more comforts than either had ever experienced at home.  Yuri was already rummaging through the cupboards and refrigerator—his eyes growing wider when he read that they could actually consume anything free of charge.  Otabek made his way past the couch and living area toward the floor-to-ceiling glass doors which opened onto a private veranda and caught a glimpse of the pink and orange hues from the setting sun.

“ _Otaya,_ there’s a fucking amenity for everything…” announced the Russian, toeing off his sneakers and leaning back onto the mattress, nearly sinking into the down duvet.  He held the room’s brochure above him and listed the following, “Dedicated butler—people are going to fucking wait on us,” his voice held disbelief, “Marbled bathroom with vanity, separate Jacuzzi tub and shower, refrigerator and bar fully stocked, private veranda with patio furniture, unlimited WiFi…”

He felt the bed dip as the Kazakh joined him, “Shit, who would want to leave,” Yuri asked, turning his head with a grin. 

The brunette’s eyes were softer than usual, and a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he held out a hand toward his companion.  The younger boy set the menu down before complacently rolling onto his side and into the awaiting arms of his best friend. 

Otabek pulled Yuri into his embrace, feeling the blond’s forehead against his chest before wrapping his arms around the Kazakh’s middle. 

“This is nice,” sincerely whispered the brunette, placing a chaste kiss on top of Yuri’s head.

“Aa,” agreed his companion, nodding his head against the teen. 

“You know I miss seeing you,” informed the almond eyed boy, “it’s a fucking pain in the ass.”

Yuri chuckled, his shoulders shaking at the abrupt change in tone, before pulling himself up to sit on top of his boyfriend.  Otabek looked very placid, with his back against the mattress, and his hand reaching up to tuck blond hair behind the Russian’s ear.

Yuri leaned down with a smirk, “Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass for me too…” he stated in between soft kisses, as their breath mingled, “It’s hard to find someone fucking cool to hang out with.” 

 “Don’t I know it?”  Otabek grinned into the kiss, “I’m afraid my standards are too high after meeting you.”

“Right?” Yuri responded, voice laced with sarcasm. His hands going to massage the Kazakh’s head when a knock came from the door.

“Yurio?  Otabek?”  Viktor’s cheerful voice caused for them to part. 

Otabek let out a sigh, brows furrowed, and thumb caressing Yuri’s cheek. 

“You know who I didn’t miss…” mumbled the blond with a look of annoyance and a sideways glance toward the door.

NNN

This ship had everything—eight restaurants, a casino, an observatory lounge, a theater, fitness center, pool and a spa, amongst a boutique and other common areas to explore during the length of their stay.  Tomorrow they would be at sea then arriving in Cadiz the following morning.

Tonight they would be eating at _Seishin_ , receiving its name from the Japanese word meaning _spirit_.  Even Yuri had to admit it was a fitting start, since it was Katsudon who had won the cruise.  The four of them made their way toward their table after being greeted by a hostess.  It was quite a modern setting and low lit blues and purples created the ambience, as they were shown a table with two chairs and a booth styled seat. 

Katsuki smiled and motioned for the two teens to take the booth.  Viktor sighed because now he couldn’t get as close to _his_ Yuuri, while Yuri merely rolled his eyes before scooting into the booth and Otabek stoically followed.  The hostess placed the menus before them and filled water glasses as she informed them that their waiter would be over shortly.

Afterwards…

Viktor flirted with the waiter.  Katsudon looked like he wanted to crawl in a hole.  Yuri managed by some feat to get the eyes of the waiter in his direction long enough to indicate what he and Otabek would like to eat tonight and their orders had managed to be placed.

“Viktor…” chided Katsuki with a frown.

“Don’t worry, _Yuuri_ ,” cooed the older Russian, “you’re still my favorite Japanese man.”

Seeing where this was leading and _his_ Yuri being close to telling the pair off, Otabek stated, “Thank you for inviting us along.”

This made Viktor beam, stopping for a moment and his arms wrapped tightly around Katsudon’s neck.  “We’re so happy you could join us!”

The Japanese man, momentarily forgetting his embarrassment, smiled.  “You’re welcome, Otabek.  We figured, the trip was good for four people and since we don’t see Yurio—

“Not my name, _Buta_ ,” interjected the younger Russian, looking across the table, with a bored expression, elbow propped and chin in hand.

Katsuki cleared his throat, “We don’t see _Yuri_ much anymore, so it was perfect that he could ask you to join us.”

At _La Table Du Chef_ , a center cooking stage in the middle of the restaurant they watched as the chef entertained guests, cooking over an open flame and adding some little tricks to the delight of tourists. 

“ _Yuuri,_ your parents should do that at Yu-Topia,” offered Viktor who was half turned in his chair to see the table.  He whistled in appreciation. 

Katsudon smiled, “Well, I’m not sure how well that would work with all of the alcohol my dad consumes, but I will give them the suggestion.” 

Yuri felt Otabek’s fingers curl around his hand before glancing toward the Kazakh at his side.  Otabek appeared to be just as interested in the culinary show as the other guests and Yuri just hoped that the waiter would eventually come back with something edible because that custard tart was long gone…

NNN

Good God, Viktor and Katsudon were sloshed.  The waiter had come back with food and several bottles of rice wine—on the house!

“Viktooooor,” whined Katsuki, “you made too much of an impression on him!”

Otabek made a grab for the Japanese man before he took out a potted plant and got him upright once more. 

At this rate, Yuri was certain that both idiots would fall overboard, and thus conclude their vacation. 

“ _Yuri, Yuri, Yuri_ ,” Viktor said with a drunken smile and a contented tone, hanging off of his countryman.

“Oi…” began the teen with an arched eyebrow, “you do know that I’m not Katsudon, right?” The blond wanted that part well known, as Viktor’s hands were rather loose when it came to the pig. 

“Of course,” his blue eyes held a hint of amusement, “you’re much noisier than my, _Yuuri_.  Now listen,” the happy-go-lucky man stated with a slur as he leaned forward causing them both to stagger toward the rail.

Damn Katsuki and his off season diet!

Otabek tried to get him to _lead, follow or get the hell out of the way_ , as visions of _his_ Yuri going overboard entered his mind. 

Otabek let out a sigh of relief as Yuri managed to catch himself at the rail.  He found himself being hugged by a drunken Japanese man, and just as it appeared things couldn’t get any worse…Otabek heard the expletive as Viktor’s added weight came crashing upon the blond.

“Look at that view,” happily announced Viktor, peering across the water, with a clueless smile.  

“Awwwww…” Katsuki sighed in Otabek’s ear, glasses having slid down the bridge of his nose. Truth be told, the Kazakh was the only thing keeping him upright. “Isn’t it nice that they are getting along?”

Yuri’s knuckles were white from gripping the rail and his whole body shook.  The Russian had seen that shitty movie entitled _Titantic_ and like hell if he was going to reenact _that_ moment at the rail of the ship.

NNN

They had deposited the two drunks onto the bed of their suite, and deeming that neither were in dire straits, bid them a hurried adieu. 

Upon closing the door, both teens let out a sigh of relief and made their way back toward their own suite for the night.

“I need a shower,” Yuri stated with a grumble, “got that drunk’s germs all over me…idiocy could be contagious.”

Otabek seriously remarked, with a strained expression, “I’ve never been that close to Katsuki and I don’t think I wish to be for quite some time.”

Yuri snorted, “I’d be fucking taking you to have your head examined if you did.”

NNN

The following morning Yuri awoke to find the bed dubbed _big enough for an army_ had not lived up to its name.  He was pressed up against a warm body and somewhere along the way his legs had become entangled with the other room’s occupant.

_Why, am I not surprised?_

The first time this had happened was in Hasetsu; however, Yuri had equated it to Otabek being ill.  Looking at the peaceful face of his sleeping companion he wondered if the Kazakh had actually slept the few times they had shared a bed during late night shitty movie sprees and fast food runs. 

This made the Russian’s eyes soften at the thought…

_How long did you feel this way about me, asshole?_

Yuri didn’t need anyone to tell him that Otabek was fucking amazing or good looking—he had eyes.  He gently pushed dark bangs away from the sleeping face before him and frowned.  It was a pain in the ass to feel this way, wasn’t it?  Things had been less annoying when they were _just_ friends. 

A sickening thought entered his mind,  

_Shit.  This is going to get harder from now on, isn’t it?_

Yuri’s eyes widened at the sudden movement as Otabek buried his face into the side of his neck and held him tighter.  The action made the blond feel warmth in the pit of his stomach. 

_Whatever.  I’m not a fucking quitter._

NNN

While Viktor and Katsuki were allowed to recover from their hangovers and play, some people had been tasked with homework on this vacation.

Yuri occupied a spot on the couch, spread out, and lying on his stomach, with an open book for his Russian Lit class.  Otabek on the other hand, was sitting in a chair at the table with an open math book, appointed to him by General Douche Bag.  The two had compared notes upon which tutor was worse—the woman who appeared to have all the charm of a prison guard or the man with the bad toupee whose mother still dresses him. 

Yuri looked up from the first page of Pushkin’s, _Ruslan and Ludmila_ , to find the Kazakh turning his pencil and erasing the paper before him.  If the force of the eraser upon paper were any indication, Yuri would say that Otabek was feeling frustrated with General Douche Bag’s assignment.

Otabek looked up to find Yuri sitting on the arm of the chair and looking down at the text book on the table. 

“Advanced algebraic fractions?”

“Yeah…” the brunette said with a groan to show his appreciation of the subject.

“It’s 12 over X plus 1,” informed the Russian in all seriousness, “That’s where you got off track.”

Otabek pulled Yuri into the chair with him and passed him the pencil and notebook, “I am not worthy of your teaching.”

“Damn right you’re not,” remarked the younger teen with a grin, now sitting across his companion’s lap, and back resting against the arm of the chair.  “Alright…so after this,” and he began scribbling the equation out onto the paper, “You’re going to bracket X minus 4 and do the same again…”

Otabek glanced down to see how the equation looked on paper, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“There are a few things…but they are pretty minor,” offered the Russian with a smirk as he pointed to the next part, “Then we are going to subtract, after multiplying the numerator and the denominator of the second fraction against the first.”

There was some time in between scribbling when Otabek heard, “Oi?  Are you listening?”

Brown eyes saw a pale eyebrow lift and a look of annoyance. 

“I’m trying,” he waved a hand in defense along with his statement, “but I’m seriously more in love with your ability to do math than to figure skate at the moment.”

Yuri scoffed before elbowing his best friend in the ribs, “You remember that when I kick your ass next season.”

“By then I will have passed advanced algebra thanks to you.”  The brunette leaned forward, “May I thank you, now?”

Yuri scowled and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, _asshole_.”

Yet grinned as Otabek placed a warm kiss to his lips.

NNN

They pull into Cadiz for the day and Yuri can’t wait to be back on solid ground to explore.  The architecture for a Spanish city with a long history and bordered by the Atlantic Ocean on all three sides is exciting.  Of course, the group isn’t going to agree on everything that they would like to see, so they agree to meet back for an early dinner after seeing the _San Sebastian Castle_ and gazing out upon the ocean from the watch tower. 

Viktor practically pulls Katsuki behind him as they head to their appointed destination leaving Otabek and Yuri in their wake. 

Yuri looks up with a smile, “Want to go to the plaza and then to the Roman Theatre?”

“Sounds good,” is his outwardly stoic companion’s response.

They head out with less pep in their step as their predecessors…

NNN

On the fourth day they arrive in port at Malaga in Costa Del Sol.  The capital is known for its inviting beaches and that is exactly what Otabek and Yuri plan on doing for the better part of the day. 

The sand feels warm in between his toes as Yuri lounges in a beach chair under an umbrella.  He’s about fallen asleep, eyes closed behind his sunglasses, when he hears Viktor say something romantic to Katsudon.

He rolls over onto his side with a groan, now facing Otabek and mouths, “Idiots.”

Otabek lets out a small chuckle and places an earbud in Yuri’s ear to help drown out the situation.

The Russian smiles as he closes his eyes once more, allowing for the sound of Otabek’s music and the warmth of the air to wash over him. 

NNN

When they board the ship for their seven o’clock departure, Viktor’s skin resembles that of a lobster’s. 

“ _Yuuri_ , you will need to be _very_ gentle with me tonight…”

Yuri feels his stomach growing nauseous as they walk up the ramp leading toward the deck and he has the desire to smack the old geezer on his backside for good measure—yet a cautionary hand on his wrist from Otabek stops all thoughts.

Otabek merely smirks, having read the situation all too quickly. 

Yuri sticks his tongue out and mouths, “You’re no fun.”

NNN

Otabek showers, rinsing away all of the sand and unnecessary sunscreen from earlier in the day.  It’s quiet and tomorrow will be another day at sea.  Yuri said they should try the Jacuzzi tonight and while it seems a little stupid, the Kazakh feels a tinge of nervousness wash over him.

When he leaves the shower, towel wrapped around his waist and enters the room housing the Jacuzzi styled tub—also large enough for a small army—he breathes in the familiar scent of spearmint.  The room is hazy from steam, yet the sight of his best friend, (leaning over the side of the tub with his arms folded, chin resting, eyes closed and contented expression), is enough to cause a warm sensation in the pit of his stomach.  

The bubbles from both the bath salts and the jet streams feel amazing as he settles into the tub.  The low seating immediately causes for the water to settle around his shoulders, and he’s almost convinced that Yuri has fallen asleep when he sees one eyelid open and a smirk stretch across his lips. 

“Fucking amazing,” whispers the blond with a contented sigh, the strands of his damp hair resting against his face, “right?”

Otabek can’t disagree with the Russian’s logic, “It’s definitely something.”

Between the aroma and the temperature, Otabek’s certain that’s why he’s feeling like this.  Yet, it gets worse when Yuri asks, “What’s wrong?”

And then proceeds to make reference to his pink cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Did you get a sunburn?”

And just like that Otabek can feel the heat from his embarrassment going up his neck as Yuri moves closer to him.  He coughs into the side of his fist and shakes his head, trying to curb these feelings. 

“ _Otaya_ ,” softly whispers Yuri, with a frown, with the water sloshing around his shoulders, “what’s the matter?”

Otabek covers his face with one hand and tips his head backwards as he tries to get a grip on what he is feeling.

“Oi?!” 

Yet feeling Yuri swim forward and asking frantically, “Are you sick?  Do you need a bucket?!”

Leaves him sighing at the situation.

The brunette tips his head down and stares at the incredulous expression of his companion, who manages, “Huh?”

“I’m fine, _Yura_ ,” he manages a strained response. 

Yuri’s brows are furrowed and an accompanying scowl rests on his features as he addresses his companion, “You’re acting fucking weird.”  A pale eyebrow arches at the thought, “Do you have heat stroke?”

Otabek’s eyes soften as he reaches out to rub his thumb against Yuri’s soft cheek, “No.  I just—

And then both of their eyes widen as the close proximity of their bodies registers in their minds.  For a moment both are frozen, their breaths stuttering at their predicament, and a shyness that washes over both of them as they avoid glances.

Being international skaters, it’s not like they weren’t accustomed to anatomy due to locker room encounters. 

Yuri is the first to spare a glance toward his companion, luckily Otabek is just as embarrassed as himself, as the Kazakh hesitantly returns his attention toward his best friend with a shyness behind his brown eyes. 

Then it’s as if nothing happened as the laughter of both teens fills the space.  

NNN

Otabek swallows hard, “Is this, alright?” 

“Aa,” responds the younger teen in between slow kisses as he sits in between his best friend’s arms with the humming of the water jets filling the space between their silences. 

Neither is accustomed to tenderness, as they press closely together, but they seem to fall into a comfortable method.  The Kazakh can feel Yuri’s fingers massaging the back of his head, while his make small circles over the small of the Russian’s back. 

The gentle brushing of fingertips over exposed skin and softly whispered consents demonstrates the trust and respect that has stemmed from being close friends.  There are no whispered words of affection, no stupid promises and no mentions of sexual relations as they explore—it’s perfect. 

NNN

Yuri’s back hits the soft duvet on the mattress, while wearing a comfortable white bathrobe.  It’s a little large and the fabric easily slides down, exposing his shoulder as he checks his social media on his phone. 

“Yura?”

“Hmm?”

Yuri lowers his phone to find Otabek with a small smile and then quickly interjects with a smirk, “Are you going to say something sappy?”

“No,” he began with a sarcastic tone and holding up a booklet, “I wanted you to know that I found pirozhki on the menu.”

Yuri’s eyes widened in excitement as he sprang up, “Where’s our butler?!”

NNN

They were now half way through their trip and sailing to Porto Mahon. The ship would arrive in the morning for a full day of exploration. 

After dinner that evening, they had made their way to the theatre to see the evening entertainer.  A hypnotist, who according to Viktor, was one of the best in the business according to reviews. 

They occupied a round table; having arrived early they had front row seating.  The waitress had brought four wine glasses to the table, and after pouring each a glass full, returned with some appetizers. 

The lights dimmed and the star of the show entered the stage.  He didn’t look too unusual, wearing a suit with his dress jacket unbuttoned and giving the crowd a thoughtful wave. 

What should have been an enjoyable evening became a memorable one…

“I will need a volunteer from the audience,” announced the showman with great gusto as the house lights turned on and he began to survey the crowd.

His eyes wandered toward a table before him…

The brunette performer scowled at the sight of Viktor who was practically bouncing up and down with his arm raised high. 

“Too willing…”

Yuri looked as though he were going to hit his fellow countryman if he didn’t stop immediately, fingers gripping onto the table. 

“Too angry…” 

Otabek merely rested his chin on his hand, silently watching the antics play out.  

“Too stoic…”

Katsuki sipped his wine and laughed nervously.

“Just right.”

NNN

“Whoa, Katsudon looks really fucking out of it…” calmly observed Yuri with a grin as he watched the Japanese man on stage with the hypnotist.

“It would appear he’s very easily persuaded…” remarked Otabek, arms crossed over his chest and voice holding a serious tone.

Viktor booed them both, “Don’t you listen Yuuri.  You’re the strongest person I—

The silver haired man blinked and then suddenly sipped his wine, as Yuuri now moved across the stage oinking like a pig.

The younger Russian nearly spit out his drink, as he covered his mouth with his hands to silence his laughter.  Otabek’s face held a look of judgment in those brown eyes and his jaw hanging slack.

NNN

And it kept getting better…

“You’re _National Geographic’s_ number one photographer and you’ve been sent on an Indian Safari to photograph some of its most beautiful animals,” announced the entertainer as he passed Katsuki a back pack and a camera.  “Now, you will need to find the perfect spot to set up…”

…And then Katsudon was set loose…

“There’s an annoying tourist who keeps blocking your view as you try to zoom in on the Himalayan Black Bear.  You’ve tried to be nice…”

Three sets of eyes widened as Katsuki Yuuri jumped onto their table.  Otabek and Yuri made a dive for their wine and hors d’oeuvres and Viktor whistled and clapped at the artistry before him.  Until the silver haired man received a backpack to the face and Katsuki, sprawled out across the table, whipped out his camera and started photographing Otabek. 

The Kazakh pushed backwards in his seat as the flashbulb took him by surprise and rubbed the stars from his eyes.  Viktor’s chair was on two legs, holding onto Katsuki’s backpack for stability, as he cried,

“ _Yuuri_ , you’re so passionate!” 

The audience clapped wholeheartedly as the performer continued, “Now that you have captured a shot of the bear, you must move onto India’s most elusive creature…”

Vision returning, the brunette sat there with a look of disbelief as he blinked.

“Get the hell away from me!” 

His best friend roared before taking off running around the theatre with Katsuki Yuuri hot on his trail, flashbulb going off amongst the darkened room. 

That night upon exiting, Katsudon wasn’t sure how he had acquired a foot shaped mark on his face or what the Polaroid’s in Viktor’s hand were all about. 

NNN

Their stop in Porto Mahon is shorter than previous ones, with an afternoon departure.  Viktor and Katsuki decide to check out the Georgian townhouses while Otabek and Yuri decide to get as much walking in by visiting _Cales Coves_.

They’ve dressed appropriately for the day with pants, sneakers and short sleeved shirts, for the terrain as they walk in a rockbound area with moss.  The water harbors beautiful blues and greens as the sun hits the shallow cove, which makes Otabek immediately think of Yuri’s eyes. 

Perhaps that’s where he went wrong as he narrowly misses slipping off a rock and into the water.  He feels a hand on his wrist and looks up to find the owner of the eyes he had been envisioning, looking at him with concern.

“Oi, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

They walk the rest of the scenic region with their hands clasped. 

NNN

After a while, they climb amongst a series of high rocks to catch the view of a beautiful summer sun over a sea green scenery. 

Yuri sits, his thigh brushing against Otabek’s in the process as he takes his water bottle from his backpack and takes a swig.  There is a breeze coming from across the water and it feels nice against his warm skin after a long walk.  He holds out the open bottle toward his companion before leaning back, arms propped behind his head and sunglasses on as he closes his eyes. 

It seems that a cloud has appeared out of nowhere and decided to block the sun.  Yuri smirks at the comparison as he opens his eyes and sees Otabek leaning over him.  The Russian lowers the glasses down the bridge of nose and arches a pale brow. 

“Can I help you?”

He’s not sure why he even bothers to ask, for Yuri soon reaches up and brings his hand to the back of Otabek’s head and brings their lips together. 

“It’s so easy…” the Kazakh whispers in between breaths, his hand next to Yuri’s head, arm bent at the elbow and stabilizing himself.

 “What is,” wonders the younger teen in between warm kisses which leave him feeling sleepy. 

“ _Us_ ,” informs Otabek, pulling Yuri up with him so they are now both sitting and his fingers playing with the hem of the blond’s shirt. 

Yuri feels his best friend rest his forehead against his shoulder, “Obviously.  We’re a fucking great team.”  He can sense that Otabek is smiling.   

NNN

Viktor and Katsuki were going to check out one of the clubs onboard.  The music did nothing for either Otabek or Yuri, so they had left after thirty minutes or so.  It was fine, they had a butler to bring them terrible things which they wouldn’t be able to eat once the season began. 

Yuri lifted one of the silver tray covers and his eyes widened, “Wow.”

Otabek chuckled.  It was something he enjoyed about Yuri, the way his eyes would light up over trying new foods.  

Yuri scowled, having heard the chuckle.  “What’s so funny?”

The Kazakh sighed, rubbing his thumb against the tinge of pink on one of Yuri’s cheeks.  “Don’t be like that; I think you’re cute.”

The Russian made a noise which resembled a gag and the brunette laughed again. 

“Puppies are cute, _Otaya_.”

“See?” 

Yuri went to answer, yet his best friend quickly shoved a spoonful of food in the Russian’s mouth and stated with a grin, “Now that’s cute too.”

Narrowed green eyes told the Kazakh he wasn’t funny. 

NNN

A brief stop in Tuscany ended with a heavy rainstorm.  They’d taken shelter under an awning on a busy street along the way, but their clothes were water logged and clinging to their bodies.  By the time they met up with Viktor and Katsudon—who hadn’t come out unscathed either—everyone was feeling rather miserable and they had decided to return to their rooms and wait to leave port. 

The warmth from the Jacuzzi felt amazing against his cold skin as Yuri sunk lower into the tub.  He really needed one of these at home.  Otabek had settled for a shower and had returned to the living area of the suite to work on another homework assignment. 

They were trying restaurant number 5…or was it 6, tonight?  Ah well, it didn’t really matter.  It seemed to matter more that their trip would end in just another three days, and then it would be another three months until he and Otabek could hang out again.

He draped his arm over the side of the tub and lowered his chin as he gazed across the room; his eyes did not focus on anything but the wisps of steam which had fogged up the glass surfaces.

NNN

Otabek wasn’t sure how much time had passed, yet when he looked up from his assignment he found the blond curled up and asleep in the middle of the bed wearing shorts and a tank top.  The Kazakh chuckled and closed his book.

He made his way over toward the bed and stared down at the sleeping teen before smirking, “Hey, sleeping beauty, you going to go to dinner?”

Yuri groaned, curling more into himself, his hand taking hold of an extra pillow and hurling in the direction from which the voice came. 

Otabek had to go wide, but caught the offending object, “You’re right.  We have a couple hours.”

The blond felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and pull him into a solid body as he settled into the warmth.

“Don’t drool on me, _asshole_.”

“Who would drool over you?”

Yuri snickered at the snarky retort and turned in his companion’s arms, “Oh?” He opened an eyelid before continuing with a grin, “That’s not what you said the other night in the Jacuzzi…”

Otabek scowled, yet the damage was making its way in the form of a blush up his neck, “You’re such a _little shit_ …”

The Russian merely shrugged—who was he to argue with such logic?

Another win for Yuri Plisetsky and his shitty sense of humor…

NNN

And now Yuri understood why Viktor had ordered him to bring a suit on this trip.  They were spending the longest day at Monte Carlo with a 10pm departure and fucking Viktor Nikiforov was pulling all the stops.  They had a dinner reservation for the swankiest restaurant in the city named _Le Louis XV_ at the Hotel de Paris. 

Only Viktor would find some ritzy French restaurant to be an exciting stop, and then shame Yuri into attending by offering the outing as a gift. 

Yuri had pulled his hair half up, at Viktor’s annoying insistence, and was straightening his tie.  He really hated this stuffed shirt shit.  The Russian checked out his appearance in the mirror—white dress shirt, straight red tie, black pin striped vest and pants—it was too damn hot for a jacket and if he were lucky he wouldn’t be able to enter the restaurant without one.  With a sigh, he rounded the corner to find Otabek tugging at a blue tie around a white dress shirt collar with a scowl, his hair slicked back, black jacket and pants.

“This fucking sucks…” the blond stated with a groan.

The feeling was apparently mutual, but that would have to wait for there was a knock at the door…

NNN

Apparently Yuri had been dressed just fine because they let him into the restaurant…

They were shown a cozy table in a corner of the dining room.  Viktor almost immediately moved his chair closer to Katsuki’s and now they really did resemble couples on each half of the white linen clad table.  Right off the bat, Yuri knew this was going to be an expensive venture for Victor’s wallet because of the number of utensils lining each side of his dinner plate.

Menus, wine and bread were brought to the table by the maître d’.  Now the fun began…the menu was mostly in French.  Yuri had eaten crepes before…but he didn’t find that word anywhere on the menu.  Oh!  He knew what soufflé meant! 

“ _Yuri,_ ” began Otabek with a soft whisper, “you can’t just skip to dessert.”

The two were leaned in close, pointing to words they knew on the menu. 

“I could,” he informed, shooting a glance toward the other half of the table.

Katsudon and Viktor had been working hard on their language barrier.  Katsuki’s English was very good having trained in Detroit, but there were somethings that just didn’t translate well.

It was times like this the blond was pleased that Otabek knew Russian, not always fluent but amazingly close.  He scowled at the thought, did it bother his best friend that Yuri didn’t know Kazakh?  Hell, even Viktor was trying to learn Japanese because of Katsudon. 

“Oi, Viktor?” 

The blue eyed man looked up from his menu and then he looked so happy he could cry when Yuri asked, “vy khotite pomoch?'

The teen’s offer to help was just too cute and suddenly Yuri’s expression darkened, he should have let them both starve.

Viktor said to live a little and take their chances on the menu without asking for help…

You only live once, right?

The moment of truth came as the metal lids were lifted from the sterling silver trays and the words _bon appetite_ sealed the deal.

Yuri poked his meal with his fork.  It looked normal…like a small chicken mixed in vegetables and some gooey paste.  He spared a cautionary glance toward Otabek’s tray…

Something that resembled beef with a curd-like substance—which he was certain would just get discarded to the far end of the Kazakh’s plate and conveniently forgotten.  Although not entirely noticeable, the Russian saw how the brunette’s shoulders lowered a little in relief.

Katsuki Yuuri was staring at his tray in disbelief—for there was nothing but raw tomatoes, fresh almonds and lemon over a piece of fish.  He still had another month to get his offseason tummy into shape! The expression on his face, said he was banking on dessert already.

Now Viktor, Mr. You Only Live Once, was probably thinking he might have made a miscalculation…

Yuri’s nose was scrunched up in disgust, Otabek was stoically glad he and his best friend were on the opposite end of the table, while Katsuki chomped into his meal albeit a tad bitterly. 

“What’s the matter, _Vitya_?”

The slight gulp of the silverhaired man didn’t get past the three sets of eyes on him. 

“Why, nothing of course, my Yuuri.”

“Oi Viktor, it would be rude to let _that_ get cold,” announced Yuri with a grin before chewing on a mouthful of food.

Even Otabek clamped down on a piece of meat with a quiet nod.

Everyone froze as Viktor took the questionable thing into his mouth and all felt a tad squeamish as a s _quish_ and a _crunch_ were heard. 

Later Yuri would Google the term _tete de veau_ and swear off unknown French food from then on.

NNN

Their second to last day was spent walking around Marseille.  No odd foods, just one another to keep them company.  They’d window shopped, seen historic architecture and taken in some of the beauty of the city by stopping at the _Palais Longchamp_. 

Yuri watched as Viktor and Katsudon did the tourist thing.  Viktor holding a coin in his hand and giving it a kiss before holding it out for the Japanese man to bless too before plunking it into the fountain.  He rolled his emerald eyes, these two idiots were too much.

“ _Yurio_ , do you want to throw a coin in too?”

Viktor’s sing song voice made him want to cringe.  “I’m not wasting money on something that stupid,” was his immediate response, shooting down the man with a look of disinterest.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” sweetly stated the older Russian, wrapping an arm around the teen’s shoulders.  “Don’t you want to be happy?”

Yuri practically snorted, “Wishing on a coin is childish.”

Viktor frowned and then pointed off in the distance, “Is that a _Yuri’s Angels_ sign?”

The blond stiffened, eyes wide and ready to run, but then felt something pushed into his hand as the silver haired man shrugged, “My mistake.” 

Yuri growled, watching as Viktor and Katsudon walked off in a lovey dovey air.  He looked down to find a silver coin in the palm of his hand and then glanced over to Otabek to complain.  The Russian’s jaw snapped closed, watching as his best friend looked over the water of the fountain—the pink sky of the setting sun reflecting in the rippling water as it gurgled quietly before them.  He fingered the coin in his hand, momentarily closing his eyes. 

It was stupid.  Wishing on a coin.  It was like wishing on a star.  You had to make your own luck if you were going to survive—his past had taught him that.  His lips pursed in thought gripping the coin in hand. 

“Ready?”

Otabek’s brown eyes searched Yuri’s face, a small smile tugging at his lips, hands in the pocket of his black jacket.

“Aa,” replied Yuri as he started forward joining his companion. 

He hardly noticed the sound of the coin as it hit the water in the shallow fountain behind him.

NNN

Opening the cabin door that morning had been a mistake.  Yuri had just finished a nice breakfast, with a strong cup of tea, and it hadn’t occurred to him that it would lead toward one of Viktor’s _bright_ ideas. 

Today’s shining Viktor Nikiforov moment was brought to you by the letter _D_ for _Dumbass._ The living legend, in all of his splendor, had decided that he and Yuri should go off and do something, allowing for Otabek and Katsudon hang out.

The Kazakh looked uncomfortable—visions of Viktor being sent overboard going through his mind.  He scowled as the memory of his last _bonding_ experience with a drunken Japanese man flashed through his mind. 

“Fucking, Viktor,” Yuri was grumbling by the time he had tied his second sneaker.  “Doesn’t he know I’d rather spend time with you?”

Chocolate eyes softened, even if Yuri were complaining, it was still a sweet sentiment. “Come back soon, I’m not sure how long I can keep up a conversation with Katsuki.”

NNN

It was an odd feeling hanging out with Viktor outside of the rink—especially one on one.  Viktor had offered to buy Yuri lunch, never an inexpensive venture, which was the tip off that the silver haired man wanted something.

After the waitress had taken their order at the grill styled establishment, Yuri began…

“So, are you going to tell me why Buta and Otabek weren’t invited?”

Viktor tried to play it off, with a coy expression, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

The blond picked up the menu once more and hummed, “Maybe if I empty your wallet a little more, you’ll suddenly remember?”

The older Russian probably had more money than God after such a successful career; however, he gently pushed the menu aside to see the teen’s face.

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

The sincerity in Viktor’s voice, followed by a moment of silence, was all before Yuri started his rapid firing of questions.

“You’re dying?”

“No…” Viktor’s face held an exasperated look. 

“You’re permanently moving to Japan?”

“…No…”  he drawled.

Yuri pursed his lips in thought and scowled, “You and Katsudon are getting married?”

Viktor had given up, now resting his chin in hand, elbow propped on the table top and sporting a placid expression.  “…Not yet,” he sighed, “Yuuri hasn’t won gold.”

“Hmm…you’re retiring _again_?”

Yuri leaned back in his seat and fixed his emerald eyes on the man before him.

“Soon,” confirmed Viktor, looking relieved that his countryman had tired from the game. 

Yuri arched an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.  “I think this season will be my last.  The way you beat me at Worlds…”

There was a pause and Yuri had just enough time to come up with a witty retort when Viktor admitted, “It was impressive.”

“Huh?”  The teen couldn’t help but look confused at the statement.

Viktor smiled, and his blue eyes softened.  “You were amazing.  Your jumps and the growth you’ve shown in your artistry—it was the best I’ve ever seen you skate, Yuri.”

Yuri could feel his cheeks warm as he quickly tried to bring the attention back to Viktor with a scoff, “You sure you’re not terminal?”

Viktor chuckled, “You’re not used to compliments outside of your _angels_ , are you?”

Yuri grumbled, just the thought of those crazy girls was enough to set him on edge. 

The older skater soon regarded him seriously and cut to the chase, “When I retire, I want to be your coach.”

Emerald eyes widened, and the teen couldn’t help but blink as another _huh_ escaped. 

“You’re only going to get better and you’ll need to start planning for the 2022 Olympics.”  Viktor’s gaze was firm, “I want to be there with you when you do.”

Yuri couldn’t help it—he snorted.  “What the hell?” he practically choked, “Oi, you really had me going there…”

The waitress returned with their appetizers and drinks, leaving Viktor to practically pout like a petulant child.

“Yuri…I was being serious…”

The teen bit into a piece of bread and chewed for a moment before swallowing, the bread felt heavier in his throat than it probably should have.  “I think you’ll be busy with Katsudon…”

“Coaches train more than one student—

Yuri cut him short and shrugged, “You’re a great skater, Viktor.  No one will ever dispute that,” he paused—emerald clashing with shocked blue, “but you suck at dividing up your time.”

Viktor looked as though he had been slapped as Yuri took a long swig of cola through the straw between his lips, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.  He sighed, “Don’t look at me like that, idiot.  You know it’s fucking true.”

The man who could improv a press release at any given moment was silent.

“Focus on Katsudon, it’d be unfair to anyone else,” announced the emerald eyed teen, “Besides, Sergei will take me to the Olympics,” he grinned, “and we’ll kick both your asses.”

“I see…” Viktor sounded disheartened, playing with the straw in his glass, quite the opposite of what Yuri was going for.

NNN

When Yuri returned later that day he believed the cabin to be empty at first.  However, he soon found Otabek lying on his back, arm propped behind his head, with eyes closed and earbuds in.  The intake of breath and the rhythmic rise of the brunette’s chest were telltale signs that Otabek had fallen asleep.   

Yuri toed off his shoes and carefully slunk onto the bed.  He looked like a cat, peering up over the pillow to check for any signs that the Kazakh were awake and grinned…

Otabek let out a startled yell and Yuri damn near pissed his pants at the outburst, holding a pillow in front of himself for protection.

Yuri soon found himself pressed against the mattress, with his best friend pinning his wrists, an evident look of triumph on his features.  He lowered himself toward the Russian and placed a kiss to his forehead.

“How was your outing with Viktor?” 

Yuri felt the release of his wrists and admitted with a sigh, “It was fucking weird…”

Otabek laid down next to his boyfriend and turned on his side, giving Yuri his undivided attention, “What happened?”

“He was saying shit about how Sergei was training me,” explained the blond, his features held confusion, “How he was thinking about retirement this year or possibly next…and then Viktor offered to coach me.”

Brown eyes patiently watched as Yuri took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “What the fuck is up with that?”

“Viktor knows having you as a student would be good for him if he wants to train for the international level,” was the Kazakh’s reasonable response.

“I told him no.”

Yuri opened an eye, and gave a sideways glance toward Otabek, as if to gage his response.  “Viktor can’t take me on he’s too fucking wrapped up in Katsudon.”

“You don’t think he’d be able to delegate his time between Katsuki and you?”

The blond turned his head toward his companion, “No.  I think Viktor’s kidding himself if he thinks he can take on students; it’d be like fucking Hasetsu again…”

Yuri blinked, feeling his cheek meet a warm chest as Otabek pulled him close.  A hand gently rubbed his head, smoothening out blond tresses, as the Kazakh listened.

“Sergei can get me to the Olympics.”

“You never stop thinking about the future,” observed Otabek with a small smile, “you’re always soldiering onward.”

“I have to,” admitted the teen before closing his eyes, “if I don’t win, I don’t keep my funding…and I can’t win with someone like Viktor as my coach.”

It was brutally honest, yet Otabek understood.  The Kazakh had been lucky enough to have his parents support to help with some of the financial burden, especially during the days when he wasn’t making great strides.

“Sergei, can take me to the top,” Yuri was starting to fall asleep as evident by the softness of his voice, “so I can repay Dedushka…”

Otabek looked down a few moments later and found the blond had fallen asleep in his arms.    

NNN

Their last stop was Barcelona.  This was a city that held memories for both couples.  It was where Viktor and Katsuki had gotten _engaged_ and Otabek and Yuri had become friends.  Since the memories involved different feelings—ones that Yuri didn’t want to gag over in the presence of the two lovebirds—they had split up for the day.

Yuri looked out over the city, leaning against the stone rail at _Park Guell_ , as he stood alongside of Otabek.  They had come full circle during a year and a half. 

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me?”

Otabek’s words make Yuri smirk, “I’m pretty sure I called you an _asshole_.”  Both laughed quietly in response to the statement. 

“What’s with you _, asshole_?  To be exact,” informed the brunette with a small smile, “Then I found the same cocky _little shit_ being hunted by fans and holing up in an alleyway.”

“Then you fucking came out of nowhere on a motorbike,” interjected the blond with an elbow to his companion’s side, “and the social media shit show of you kidnapping me.”

“Why did you follow me to this spot anyways?” 

The brunette glanced over to his companion with a serious tone and watched as Yuri shrugged.

“Who the hell knows?  It’s not like I had anything better to do…besides, I felt like I owed you for helping me out.”

“You know, I was fucking nervous to talk to you.”

Yuri’s eyes widened, “Huh?  Seriously?”

Otabek laughed, “You’re an intimidating _little shit_ , you know that?”

The blond smirked, with an air of bravado, “Damn right, I am!”  His eyes showed a glimmer of challenge, “I could kick your ass any day on or off the ice.”

“Yeah,” the Kazakh said fondly, “I know,” he quieted for a moment before adding, “I enjoyed that day.”

They stand in companionable silence for a moment until Yuri snorts.  “Yeah, right up until everyone crashed the café.”

“I don’t think I ever thanked you after the final.”

Yuri gave his best friend his full attention, “For what?”

There was a shyness that had washed over Otabek as he gazed out across the city again, “For following me to the club.  If you hadn’t, I’m not sure we’d be here today.”

The blond smiled fondly, “Yeah…you were such an asshole…no wait, you still are.”

Otabek chuckled softly, “To think I’d have missed out on your shitty sense of humor, terrible horror movies, a shit ton of carbs, the oddest scenarios with your fans…” he paused and gave Yuri his sincerest expression, “…and I’d have kicked myself in the ass for never becoming your best friend.”

“I’m fucking glad I did too…”

They exchanged a fist bump before making their way to meet their other companions. 

NNN

They lingered in the airport terminal, before having to go to their gates.  It’d been an interesting ten days, and their next time together would have to wait until September.  The next time they met, their programs would be nearly polished, school headed for hiatus, and their Grand Prix qualifiers slated. 

See you in September…

NNN

Please leave a comment if you have a moment.  This was a fun one to write. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

   

 

 

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	25. Nobody Knows You Like I Do

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the positive feedback from the last one shot.   I had a great time writing it.  This time is no different and I really hope that you’ll like the outcome!  It was something I had been editing off and on for months and I hope it meets all your expectations. I had two inspirations for this piece “ _Beautiful”_ remix by Bazzi (ft. Camila Cabello) and “ _Your Body_ ” by Plain White T’s.

NNN

_When I was 13 years old, I saw a boy with the eyes of a soldier…_

_I was experiencing a rough patch on my path to becoming an international figure skater.  I had been struggling just to keep up with the Russian students and my frustration and inability to do so, had landed me in the novice class._

_I had pretty much decided that maybe I wasn’t meant to be a skater after all, but then through my anger I found a boy at the ballet bar.  He did everything being ask of him with ease as he stared straight ahead as if soldiering onward into a silent battle._

_Five years later we met on the international level and I couldn’t help but watch in amusement as he told JJ off in a hotel lobby.  My eyes must have lingered for too long because the Russian asked, “What’s with you, asshole?”_

_Call me crazy, but after certain events, I asked him for his friendship.  Yuri Plisetsky gave me more than I could have imagined—a foul mouth, a shitty sense of humor and a best friend.  He’s loud and vivacious, a fierce competitor, with eyes that speak volumes and a smile that would make me agree to something illegal._

_In a year, my admiration had stemmed from a crush to a full fledge dive, as I fell for the little shit.  Every hug, every jab and every outing spent together became a painful reminder that our friendship probably wouldn’t hold up if I admitted my true feelings.  Friends at home told me to fess up—if Yuri couldn’t accept my feelings or didn’t want to be my friend anymore because of them, then he wasn’t worth my time._

_I didn’t have much experience with relationships and guessing from the way Yuri held everyone at bay, he didn’t either.  Other than his fondness for his grandfather, his cat, and food, I’m not sure that Yuri had any other constant in his life.  If I were to jeopardize that one positive relationship for him, the trust he had granted me, I would have been an even greater shithead than JJ.  I bottled up my feelings repeatedly._

_I tried looking at other guys—in all my free time—there’s a great deal of sarcasm to that statement—but who was I kidding?  I didn’t really look very hard, and most of the Kazakh men look the same to me.  No one looks like Yuri Plisetsky.  It’s not Yuri’s body that I am attracted to—alright, so the Russian is undeniably attractive—but rather his heart.  He doesn’t let people in, you must earn his trust.  For every shitty word that comes out of his mouth, there’s a reason behind it, and when he does lower those walls, it’s like you’ve been given something equal to gold at a championship._

_I finally got the courage, and a plane ticket on standby, while staying in Hasetsu.  Yet, if rejection came in the form of a plush tiger smacking into the backside of my head, then I had been damn lucky…_

NNN

_4 Days Ago…_

It was finally happening.  The Grand Prix Qualifiers had been announced in between their sea cruise and this visit.  The final would take place in Vancouver this year—a spot reminiscent to the time that Otabek had trained under the Leroys and JJ had taught him the quad. 

Yuri had looked excited through the Skype app on Otabek’s computer, as he announced that they would both be at Helsinki the beginning of November.  They would part ways from there with Yuri competing in the _Rostelecom_ and Otabek in the last leg of the event at the _Internationaux de France_.  It would be a real nail biter for Otabek—because if Yuri had already placed, then he would have to perform well to follow the Russian to Vancouver in December.

Their encounters seemed to be solely based on their abilities to medal and make it to competitions.  This was why today’s meeting was so special.  Yuri was finally coming to Almaty for a week; while September was normally a cooler month, the city still held temperatures in the mid 70’s to upper 80’s and the forecast for the week had sounded hopeful.

The closest he had been to Yuri in the last three months was through a pixelated screen and now Yuri’s flight had been delayed by another half an hour.  The Kazakh glared at the little Aeroflot Icon and its arrival time—obviously taunting him.  The airport’s gift shop had been conveniently placed, and Otabek thought it would be in his best interest to have snacks readily available for his favorite Russian.

NNN

Yuri was off the plane as quickly as he could possibly go—without plowing over someone’s babushka in the process.  He bounded out of the ramp and took in his surroundings, locating the familiar baggage icon and with a grin hurried toward the hallway. 

It was now around 3pm in Russia and 6pm in Almaty.  Yuri had already phoned his dedushka the moment the plane’s airplane mode sign had gone off.  Nikolai had reminded Yuri to be polite, as he would be meeting Otabek’s grandmother during his stay.  His best friend’s parents were out of town and had left Otabek access to their car to pick Yuri up at the airport.

Yuri made it was down the long hallway, with its floor to roof windows allowing for the evening sun to filter in through the large panes of glass.  He opted for the stairs over the escalator and made his way down the first flight.

NNN

Otabek had procured snacks for the ride.  They could figure out where to eat dinner after collecting Yuri’s bags, but in the meantime his best friend—with the known metabolism of a racehorse—wouldn’t starve.

The brunette looked up to see a familiar sight making its way toward him.  He couldn’t help but smile as he held open his arms and caught the blond, feeling Yuri’s arms tightly around his neck.  Otabek was certain he would never tire of this feeling. 

NNN

Yuri had practically devoured the Kazakh chocolate bar and the bag of _bauyrsaks_ by the time his bags came off the conveyer belt.  He’d arrived with a white tank top, skinny jeans and cheetah print sneakers.  Otabek had gone for a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, as the setting sun would make the evening cooler.  The brunette had slung Yuri’s duffle bag over his shoulder, while the Russian wheeled his suitcase behind as they made their way to the parked car. 

Bags in the trunk and both teens buckled in, Yuri lifted a pale eyebrow at the expression his best friend’s face held.

“What?”

The only response he was granted was Otabek’s palms against the sides of his face and warm lips capturing his own. 

“What’s with you?”

Yuri’s question made the brunette frown, he opened his brown eyes and suddenly sounded unsure, “You don’t want me to kiss you?”

Emerald eyes rolled as the blond leaned forward and massaged the back of his boyfriend’s head, “Don’t look at me like that, _asshole_.”  Yuri’s face held a grin, “I was only fucking teasing...”

Otabek felt a soft kiss to his lips as if in apology before Yuri pushed him away and regarded him seriously, “But if you think those snacks got you out of buying me dinner, you’re sadly mistaken.”

NNN

They’d been to one of Otabek’s favorite restaurants and were settling into their shared home for the next week.  Yuri had showered first and was lounging on the sofa while he awaited his companion’s return.  It was a nice flat, as far as flats go, and Yuri could see a collection of books and music on the shelf across the room.  Had he been so inclined, he might have gotten off his ass to investigate; however, the sofa and his back were a match made in heaven now...

Yuri was roused out of his sleep by the feeling of two arms wrapping around him and shifting him slightly.  The blond felt his cheek cushioned against his best friend’s shoulder and hummed, his brain still ridden with sleep. 

“I missed you, _Yura_ …”

“Aa…” Yuri leaned closer in response to the warmth and the added squeeze in his companion’s embrace, “…me too…”

This whispered exchange of words was becoming more common in their relationship for they now held a different meaning.

NNN

Yuri had followed Otabek into the home after taking off his sneakers and leaving them at the door.  It appeared no space had been left untouched in the hallway as frames lined the walls—Otabek obviously had a large family.  He half heard the Kazakh announce their arrival with the word _äje_ , which Yuri understood to be grandmother. 

A woman’s voice came from around the corner, which opened into a well-furnished parlor.  A woman, about his dedushka’s age, immediately stood to greet them.  Her long hair was streaked with gray and pinned to her head in the shape of a bun.  Standing, she was about the same height as Yuri, thin but in no means delicate, wearing a button-down tan summer dress that went to the floor.  Yuri noticed that she had the same brown eyes as the man at his side.  

Otabek was immediately snagged by his grandmother as she kissed his cheek, “ _Beka_ , is this your Russian friend that you seem so interested in?” 

The emerald eyed teen wasn’t sure what they were talking about, and luckily for his companion a blush went unnoticed, as Yuri found his eyes roaming across the room to the fine décor and photographs. 

If Otabek was going to translate out of respect, he needn’t have bothered.  His grandmother was already crossing the distance toward the newcomer.

“Zdrást-vuî-tye,” happily greeted Otabek’s grandmother, her kind brown eyes taking in the boy before her as she smiled, “Kak váshee deelá?

Yuri needn’t remember his dedushka’s advice; if she were polite enough to greet him in Russian then he would return the favor.  He took a little puff of breath before responding, “Sälemetsizbe,” he greeted, feeling Otabek’s mood change.  He cleared his throat and asked, “Kalaniz kalai?”

Otabek was certain that _Yuri speaking in Kazakh_ may now trump _Yuri speaking in English_ as far as how amazingly cute he thought the blond to be. 

And just like that it was like someone had let in one of _Yuri’s Angels_ as he was pulled into a tight embrace. 

“My goodness you are adorable,” his grandmother practically cooed, “what a nice surprise—greeting an old lady in her native tongue,” she sincerely stated in Russian to his benefit.

Yuri blinked, now being held at arm’s length, “I am very happy to meet you, Yuri.  _Beka_ has told me so much about you.”

Otabek could feel the smirk hidden behind Yuri’s eyes the moment his grandmother had unleashed his childhood nickname into the conversation. 

NNN

Otabek found it awfully convenient that his grandmother had no tea or snacks in the house, and thus he was required to leave the house to procure these items.  Yuri would keep her company in the interim and the Kazakh could only imagine what the Russian was being asked in his absence.

Luckily, he found himself back within a half an hour’s time and toed off his shoes while carrying the bags in hand before quietly closing the door with his backside.  He could hear the faint sounds of piano coming from the radio—oh, how his grandmother loved her musicals—and recognized the chorus of _“You’ll Never Walk Alone.”_ A far cry from the music he spun as a DJ, but it reminded the Kazakh of childhood summers with the elderly woman.

The brunette was about to announce his return when he heard bits of the conversation.  Good God, hopefully she wasn’t whipping out any embarrassing childhood photos.  Wasn’t that a universal law for grandparents to do with your boyfriend?  Not like he had officially told anyone that he was dating Yuri Plisetsky.

He was about to enter the kitchen when a question stopped him in his tracks.

NNN

“What does your family think of your skating accomplishments?”

Yuri stood at the marble counter and placed the tea cups on the tray before him, “My Dedushka tells me that he’s proud of me,” he stated with a fondness in his voice.

Otabek’s grandmother couldn’t help but smile, “We’re all so proud of Otabek—myself, his parents, his siblings and even his cousins.”  She busied herself by setting the kettle full of water onto the burner of the white stove and turned the knob, softly humming the familiar showtune.  “What do your parents think?”

“I wouldn’t know,” there was an honesty to the words.

NNN

Otabek felt his back press against the cool wall of the home as he swallowed roughly, balancing the now heavy bag in his arms…

His grandmother’s question seemed muffled, due to the crescendo of the piano, but Yuri’s statement rang out clear.

NNN

Emerald eyes met concerned almond—they really were the same eyes as his best friend’s.  “I never met my father and my mother left me on a doorstep when I was five.”

There must have been something outside of pity in her almond eyes which made him continue…

“I think it’s great that Otabek has such a big family,” the Russian informed, motioning toward all of the photographs, “it’s just not something I can relate to.” 

The elderly woman quietly passed the teen a few napkins and silverware to add to the tea tray, silently prompting Yuri to continue if he wanted.

The blond pressed a cloth napkin in half and quieted for a moment before adding, “For as long as I can remember, I was never wanted as a child.” 

He took hold of the offered plates and saucers, while Otabek’s grandmother pulled a few things from a nearby kitchen cabinet.

“All children are a gift from God,” she stated in a clear _no-nonsense_ tone. 

Yuri couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah, I don’t think my mother would agree with you on that one, Mrs. Altin.”

Emerald eyes softened in memory as he placed the utensils in a neat little row atop the pressed linen napkins and added, “I only remember muffled phone conversations,” he seemed faraway now and into his thoughts, “She would cry, always calling me a nuisance and that she should have aborted me because I ruined her career.  Some days I wondered if she were right.  Anything would have been better than being locked in that little apartment…”

The chocolate eyed woman nearly dropped the cannister of loose-leaf tea, it bumped against the counter top, jarring Yuri from his thoughts, in response to the sheer bluntness of his words. 

Yuri’s eyes froze on the look of shock on the elderly woman’s face, he immediately wanted to back-pedal.  The Russian was inwardly cursing himself—his grandfather had warned him to be fucking polite!  Otabek had been nothing but amazing toward his dedushka and now he was fucking things up with his best friend’s babushka?!

“I’m sorry,” he felt wretched inside as he tried to explain his actions to the kind old woman.  “I’m not good with words and—

Yuri’s eyes widened as he was pulled forward and into a warm embrace.  He opened his mouth to say something but found himself floundering.  He felt a warm hand gently rubbing the back of his head, silencing all protest. 

NNN

Yuri occupied a cushion on the parlor sofa, sitting next to his best friend.  His grandmother had prepared a wonderful pot of tea and sweets.  She sat across from them with a kind smile on her face and legs crossed at the ankles holding her cup and saucer in hand. 

“ _Beka,_ where have you taken Yuri so far?”

The upward curl of Yuri’s lips could be seen from behind his tea cup.  Such a cute nickname had always followed Otabek in this household.  

Trying to ignore his boyfriend’s amusement, Otabek stated, “We’re going to visit _Kok Tobe_ and _Ozero Bolshoe Almatinskoe_.”

She seemed pleased with this information and the brunette got the feeling there was something equal to mirth resting behind those old eyes as he brought his teacup to his lips.

“And Yuri, have you met any of Beka’s friends?”

“Aa…” he set his tea cup down on the saucer and with the sincerest tone remarked, “I met two of _Beka’s_ friends.”

Otabek was sure as shit blushing as he nearly choked on his tea.

“Beka darling,” his grandmother seemed unphased by her grandson’s sudden outburst, “don’t inhale your tea.  It will burn your throat and stain my carpet.” 

How Yuri managed a straight face wasn’t easy as the elderly woman continued, “Yuri, go on, dear…”

The Russian cleared his throat to silence the laughter that wanted to erupt.  “I met Aslan and Nadin at the club where Otabek has his gigs.”

Otabek was trying to keep a stoic expression on his face at the memory of that meeting…

_The dark-haired man grabbed Otabek around the neck and with a wide smile teased, “Oh Beks…he does have the eyes of a soldier.”_

_“Don’t tease him so much Aslan,” reprimanded a kind looking teen with dark eyes, “it’s not his fault he’s in love—_

_“Okay, that’s enough out of both you…” groaned Otabek, thankful that Yuri was checking out the DJ booth in the near empty club._

_Nadin grinned, “We are happy for you, you know, that right?”_

_Aslan hooked a cord into a speaker and observed, “I know Yuri’s being checked out…you see how low that guy’s eyes are—_

_Otabek coughed loudly and watched as Aslan shrugged._

_“No, wait,” agreed Nadin because it was fun to get Otabek riled up, “He’s definitely checking Yuri out.”_

_“I suppose it was only a matter of time before Yuri got a better offer…”_

_Otabek hit both upside the head before making his way toward the DJ booth.  Why were all his friends like this?_

_But they did like Yuri so he supposed he could tolerate them for another year…_

NNN

Yuri received a hug from Otabek’s grandmother as she said with a smile, “You come back and visit again when you can.”

“Aa…spasibo…” 

She released him and watched as Yuri disappeared down the hall to retrieve his sneakers and jacket. 

“Now, _Beka_ …”

Otabek opened his arms for the customary hug from his lovely grandmother but she took his face in her hands and regarded him seriously.

“You eavesdropped earlier didn’t you, my darling?”

There was no use denying anything, so he merely gave the inclination of his head.

“I could tell by the look in your eyes when you entered the kitchen,” she explained with an understanding look in her almond eyes.  “Dear me, you love that boy, don’t you?”

Otabek could feel his cheeks warming under her palms, “Is it that obvious?”

“You can’t get anything past these old eyes.” 

She leaned forward and embraced her grandson, giving him a soft kiss to his cheek and stated, “I am happy for you.”

NNN

The brunette was trying to determine the right way to breach the subject, as he retrieved the left-over takeout food from the refrigerator, while Yuri grabbed a couple of plates from a nearby cupboard.   

The older teen straightened and began with a sigh, “I owe you an apology.”

“Huh?”  Yuri was pulling a pair of forks out of the silverware drawer, “What for?”

“I heard what you said to _äje_.”  His face held a crestfallen expression.

Yuri looked panicked for a moment, “I wasn’t rude to her, I—

Otabek’s eyes widened at the miscommunication, “No.  Of course, you weren’t rude.” His brows furrowed at the thought, “I didn’t mean that…”

Yuri looked puzzled by his best friend’s comment, “Huh?  Then what are you talking about?”

“I overheard you mention your parents…”  The Kazakh resembled a kid who had been caught in an awkward situation.

Yuri grabbed the containers from Otabek’s hands and popped them into the microwave, dismissing the entire thing offhandedly, “Is that all?  Jeez, you fucking had me worried.”

The Russian watched as the timer counted down on the microwave, but felt a gentle hand take hold of his arm and pull him back to the conversation. 

“What’s with you?”  Yuri arched an eyebrow, his best friend looked as though he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come out.  There was something unspoken in those almond eyes that drew Yuri into the silence.

“You know, it was a long time ago,” Yuri seemed to be pulling Otabek’s thoughts out, “you don’t need to feel bad about stupid shit like that.”

He turned his attention toward the buzzing of the microwave, grabbed a hand towel and proceeded to get their dinners. 

As Yuri walked past the Kazakh with food in hand, Otabek wished he could have said something to the effect that would demonstrate his feelings for the blond. 

NNN

The view of the city at night was wonderful, with all the lights of Almaty showcased below _Kok Tobe_ —the highest point of the city.  They’d spent the afternoon exploring the park, grabbing carb loaded food from the nearby vendors, taken a ride on the Ferris wheel, and gone on the bumper cars—Otabek was certain he could still feel the whiplash from the impact of Yuri’s car hitting his.   

By the time they entered the cable car to descend the mountain their clothing was practically sticking to them at odd angles.  Yuri rung the edges of his hoodie for emphasis and watched as water fell to the metal floor. 

Check the weather forecast before planning an outing—it had apparently slipped both of their minds.

Otabek was glad to see that the Russian had pulled out his phone and was making the most of the situation by snapping views of the lit city. 

NNN

Hot chai and dry towels were the first thing on Otabek’s mind as he removed his boots at the door of his flat and Yuri followed him inside. 

The Russian dodged as the Kazakh lunged at him, after having fallen victim to Yuri’s shitty sense of humor, in the form of being smacked by a wet towel.  Otabek briefly remembered grabbing Yuri around the waist before things escalated...

NNN 

Otabek took a deep breath and admitted, “ _Yura_ , you’re my best friend…”  He willed himself to only place a cautious kiss to the boy’s lips.

“And you’re mine,” replied the Russian with an understanding tone, taking in his companion’s conflicted appearance.

“I don’t want to fuck this up…” Otabek trailed off, his body and his brain at obvious odds with one another, as he avoided Yuri’s inquisitive expression.

“ _Otaya_ …”  Yuri looked down at their joined hands and continued, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chocolate colored eyes spared a glance toward the blond and he listened as Yuri explained, “I mean, not for another three days.”  Otabek watched as the teen shrugged with a shitty grin before adding, “after that, I’ll have to go home…because Lilia would come looking for me, and that’s just a fucking headache I don’t need.”

Yuri was rewarded by his boy friend’s laugh.  It was deep and throaty, and it had broken the tension in the air. 

NNN

Otabek broke their kiss out of the sheer desire for air and rested his forehead against Yuri’s, waiting for his breath to level out.  The Kazakh’s heart was beating rapidly, his pulse echoing inside of his ears, and he wondered if Yuri could feel it hammering inside of his chest. 

They had been drawn to one another from a need to be closer.  Each whispered cautionary line from Otabek had been met with a consensual response from Yuri, and in response Otabek’s unease had subsided. 

The warmth in the pit of his stomach had increased and their current location on the couch had become uncomfortable.  He made a gesture to move, tugging Yuri’s arms around him before standing.  The brunette’s hands automatically went to cup his companion’s upper thighs as they wrapped around his waist, and Otabek felt his legs grow heavy before making a set course toward his bedroom. 

NNN

The bedroom was cooler than the living room of the flat, and the noise created by the air conditioner in the window created a soft hum throughout the dimly lit room. 

Otabek gently caressed the exposed skin of Yuri’s back.  Their chests were flush and warm against one another, shirts long discarded, as they occupied a spot at the end of the bed.  The Russian straddled his boy friend’s lap as his fingers gently massaged the back of Otabek’s scalp.  Their eyes half lidded, kisses slow and breathy.  This wasn’t about lust. 

Otabek had admitted with profound embarrassment, “I’ve never been with anyone before…”

Yuri rolled his eyes, taking his boyfriend’s face in his hands and confessed seriously, “What the hell does that matter?  I haven’t either,” he stated unabashedly, forcing dark eyes to focus on him once again. 

The blond proved that even in moments of deep arousal, his shitty sense of humor was in place, as he likened it to learning a quad.  It was going to be a little rough, messy and needing some work, but they would figure out the landing together.

NNN

Soft caresses, a strong sense of closeness and safety, with the feeling of being wanted had quelled any self-doubts the couple might have encountered…

The Kazakh could feel Yuri’s arms wrap around his back and in one gentle pull their skin touched.  Otabek’s hand is in the Russian’s blond head of hair, his fingers linger for a moment taking in the softness of the strands.  Then his hand moves past Yuri’s cheekbone and towards his lips. 

The brunette began to softly kiss his boyfriend, his hand cupping the Russian’s cheek and his knee bent to support his weight.  It was warm, their breath mixing together, and the air sticky from the returning humidity after the rain—their bodies fitting together as if made to feel this natural rhythm. 

Otabek had never felt this way before as he took in Yuri’s appearance—tousled hair and half lidded eyes.  He broke their kiss, just to relish in the warmth of the Russian’s cheek against his own. 

“Relax,” he heard Yuri’s heady voice in his ear, gently pushing the Kazakh’s weight toward him, his back pressing a little further into the mattress.  “You’re not heavy…”

He could feel Yuri’s arms tighten around him, their bodies now flush, as he instinctively pressed his face into boyfriend’s neck.  Otabek placed a chaste kiss, hearing the exhale of breath from the younger teen. 

“ _Yura?”_

“Yeah?”

Yuri turned his head to take in the sight of his companion.  Otabek’s chocolate eyes were blown from a loving want that shown in the dimly lit room.  The expression directed at him, made Yuri’s heart hammer inside of his chest. 

“I’m so glad you’re here…” whispered the Kazakh allowing for the low humming of the fan to fill the silence, “I can’t imagine sharing this with anyone else.”

The sincerity in those words made the Russian’s breath hitch.  “ _Otaya_ …”  he paused, his emerald eyes fixated on the ones before him, “Don’t you know, that I’ll always be there for—

Yuri’s eyes widened as Otabek’s warm lips seized his own again.  He let his eyelids close in response to the emotion behind the action…

NNN

Yuri’s golden hair fanned around them as their actions stilled and they waited for their breathing to level out—their bodies needing to recover.  Otabek reached up and gently tucked the hair behind his best friend’s ear as they took in the sight of one another.

“You alright?”  Yuri whispered breathlessly, gently pushing back the brunette’s damp bangs from his forehead in the process.

Otabek took hold of the blond’s hand and pressed his lips to his boyfriend’s knuckles.  He spoke with a contented sigh, “I tereñ seni süyemin…” 

Seeming to have forgotten himself, the Kazakh opened his mouth to translate yet Yuri leaned downward, gently pressing against his already heated body.

His breath ghosting over the brunette’s ear, as he started, “Ya…”  he seemed to still his mind and confessed, “lyublyu tebya…”

This was the first time that Yuri Plisetsky had uttered those words of affection.  Strong arms encircled Yuri’s lithe form as he held the boy against his torso and kissed the left side of his head. 

They were now spent and could care less about the uncomfortable heat after making love…

NNN

_Present…_

Otabek rests silently in the dark watching as Yuri’s, exposed lithe form, rests underneath a simple white sheet in the Kazakh’s bed.  Hair pooling around the blue pillowcase like a golden halo, eyelids closed, and a peaceful expression on his features. 

_I can’t believe that last night happened.  I’m nearly twenty and I’ve waited to make love to someone worth it.  God, Yuri is beyond that._

The brunette presses a finger to his lips in memory, his tired mind recalling all the sensations from their love making.  He swallows hard in remembrance of Yuri’s confirmation of love for him.  He knows it’s stupid, because they are so young, but Otabek’s certain that he would be content with Yuri Plisetsky as his only lover. 

“What are you worrying about?”

Yuri’s murmured words break through Otabek’s reverie.  The blond rests on his side, head cushioned against the pillow and emerald eyes hold the brunette in their sight as he patiently awaits a response.

“I’m not worried,” he admits—Yuri’s eyes always hold a power over him—and rubs his thumb against the Russian’s soft cheek.  “I just am going to fucking miss you next week…”

“Aa…” Yuri’s response, coupled with the pursing of his lips confirms the feeling is mutual.  “We still have three days…and I will see you in Finland.”

“That’s not until the beginning of November,” Otabek sounds disappointed as the blond opens his arms and the Kazakh scoots in closer.

“I know,” mumbles Yuri against Otabek’s shoulder, his eyelids closing in response to the safe embrace.  “Maybe a long weekend in October?  Sergei’s not an ass like Yakov…”

“I’ll find one…”   offers the brunette, his arms wrapped tightly around a slim waist and their legs tangling.  “This is going to fucking suck…”

Otabek’s honesty is one of the things Yuri loves the most about him, even when it’s a hard truth. 

“Do you regret last night?”

Yuri’s words make Otabek pull away suddenly due to the raw emotion behind the words.

“Of course not,” he is quick to say before kissing the teen’s forehead. 

“I just thought it might have been easier if we hadn’t…” Yuri seems to carefully consider his words, while feeling the press of warm lips against his forehead. 

“It probably would be,” observes the brunette, “but you’re so fucking worth it.”

In between their kisses Yuri manages, “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

NNN

Well please leave a review if you enjoyed! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

 

    

 

 

 

   

     

 

  

 


	26. Spending all my Time with You

Author’s Notes: I am so happy that you enjoyed the turn of events from the last update.  It’s always a gamble when you change the course of a relationship.  Well, skating is back in session, and it’s so hard to believe that summer sailed past us so soon…. 

NNN

Good to his word, Otabek had found that one long weekend to visit Yuri.  It had to be in Moscow, and both of their coaches had agreed upon it—if the couple practiced and didn’t destroy their diets in the span of 96 hours.  It was so worth it. 

 

NNN

 

Otabek wanted nothing more than to wrap the Russian up in his arms the moment Yuri opened the door to his Moscow flat.  He would have managed to do it too, however, his arch nemesis beat him to the punch!

 

The moment the Kazakh had shut the door, he released his suit case and made a grab for Yuri, but Potya—anticipating the move—jumped from the back of the couch and onto the blond’s shoulder. 

 

As Yuri moved forward, Potya watched Otabek—damn cat appeared to be smirking and probably would have flipped him off if her toes could bend in such a way.

 

NNN

 

Otabek found himself blushing at Yuri’s simple question, “You want the couch or the bedroom with me?”

 

Yuri’s shitty grin as he awaited an answer—one he probably already knew—caused for the Kazakh to inwardly groan. 

 

Otabek didn’t know how much sleep he’d get by occupying the same bed as the Russian—not while residing in _enemy_ territory that is.  Yuri assured him that Potya loved her canned food more than him, but Otabek wasn’t convinced.  However, Otabek had already gone 4 weeks and 3 days, (no he hadn’t been counting…much), without his boyfriend and it sounded like a suicide mission the Kazakh was willing to accept. 

 

NNN

 

He had to act quickly, for Otabek was certain that the cat would inhale her food just to spite him and then proceed to puke it up on his luggage.  Therefore, leaving nothing to chance, he wrapped Yuri into his embrace and held him tightly as they stood in the bedroom.

 

The afternoon sunshine snuck in through the blinds and fell upon the beige carpet casting shadows across the walls.  The Kazakh smiled, feeling Yuri’s hands rest in between his shoulder blades and return the embrace, while Otabek was reminded of their time in Almaty.   

They sat on the edge of the bed describing their current preseason schedules and the stakes being so high, putting more stress on their bodies.  Both of their coaches saw potential, as their results from Worlds could attest, and they were lucky to get this weekend together. 

 

“Was your coach pissed?” 

 

Yuri’s question made Otabek chuckle, “He wasn’t impressed.  I said, that I thought Sergei could help me with a piece of my choreography.” 

 

Yuri arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, “Oh?  And did he buy that shit?”

 

The brunette frowned, “I don’t think so.  If anything, I think he believes I’m being a childish asshole and want to spend time with you.”

 

The blond grinned, “That’s pretty spot on, isn’t it?”

 

“Listen you _little shit_ ,” Otabek leaned forward and gently pressed his boyfriend’s back against the mattress with a smirk, “it’s your fault I have to work my ass off all the time just to spend time with you.”

 

Yuri didn’t look convinced, his fingers threading through his best friend’s as he spoke, “My fault?  You’re the one who fucking confessed to me, remember?”

 

The brunette felt a tug at the corners of his lips as he brought his hand to cup the Russian’s cheek.  “Yeah, yeah….” he began with a sigh, “worse mistake of my life…”

 

Yuri grinned into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Otabek’s shoulders. 

 

NNN

 

Otabek awoke to an empty spot next to him and frowned.  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and spotted the alarm clock’s red digits indicating 9:23am.  It had felt good to sleep in that morning and he had really wished that the blond was next to him. The cool morning air caused goosebumps on the Kazakh’s arms as he pushed the covers away. 

 

He treaded cautiously out of the bedroom upon finding his best friend not in sight…his _rival_ could be anywhere and in bare feet this could be dangerous.  He needn’t have worried though, the empty food bowl on the floor and the cat occupying the sofa, were a good indicator that she had lapsed into a food coma.  If pets resembled their owners then Potya was living up to that expectation, for she looked like Yuri when he sat in the kiss and cry awaiting scores.  Of course, Yuri usually managed to have his eyes open…

 

Speaking of Yuri, he didn’t appear to be there.  Otabek frowned before spotting a note on the kitchen counter. 

 

_Otaya,_

_Have an appointment, didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be back soon!_

_Yura_

 

Otabek was certainly glad that no one could read his sappy as fuck thoughts—because Yuri leaving notes for him, had made the Kazakh feel a little too warm and fuzzy that morning.  The hell was he becoming?  God, hopefully not someone like Viktor or Katsuki! 

 

NNN

 

Otabek heard the click of the door handle and saw his best friend toe off his shoes before hanging up his jacket on the nearby hook.  The brunette had already showered and had been quietly listening to music on his phone. 

 

He smiled, seeing a brown paper bag in Yuri’s hand as he entered the living space. 

 

“Got breakfast,” the emerald eyed teen announced, “I’ll put some water on for chai.”

 

Otabek could only imagine how many carbs were sitting in that paper bag now resting on the counter, but he smiled nonetheless and asked, “Where did you have to run off to so early?”

 

Yuri was filling the kettle full of water as he honestly replied, “I went to the hospital for an MRI.”

 

“Jesus, _Yura_ ,” began the brunette, who was out of his chair in an instant, and startling the Russian the next. 

 

Yuri nearly jumped as he turned away from the stove to find his best friend taking him by the shoulders and asking, “Are you alright?”

 

Emerald eyes locked with almond momentarily—anyone else would have received a kick to the head—but Yuri relaxed and explained, “It was just a follow up.” 

 

 “Why didn’t you tell me?”  His boyfriend chided with an accompanying scowl, “I would have come with you instead of fucking sleeping in.”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes and sighed.  “You’d have sat out in the waiting room while I sat in a damn box,” he declared with a noncommittal shrug, “Besides, I figured you’d be tired from your flight.”

 

Otabek’s brows furrowed at the teen’s explanation, “You’re making me look like a shit friend, Yuri.”

 

“You’re doing it again…”  the Russian observed, feeling Otabek’s thumb rubbing the left side of his head.  “You always rub my left side when you’re overthinking shit.”  He was earnest in his assessment of the situation—no trace of his shitty disposition.  “You kissed my head in Almaty too after we made love.”

The way the blond said things so unabashedly made the Kazakh’s cheeks warm in memory as Yuri continued, “Other than scarred tissue, there’s no signs of any swelling so I’m still clear to skate.”

 

Yuri heard the whispered _thank God_ as it escaped Otabek’s lips and felt an arm wrap around his waist drawing him closer towards the body of his boyfriend. 

 

“Sergei said he’d get me a fucking helmet if that set Lilia’s mind at ease for the season,” the Russian informed with an exasperated sigh before arching an eyebrow, “What are you doing?”

 

Otabek looked dead serious, his phone in hand as he answered, “I’m going on the Internet to find you a helmet.” 

 

Yuri smacked the brunette in the shoulder and grumbled, “You’re an _asshole_ , you know that?”

 

The water in the kettle pinged against the metal sides as the water drew nearer to a boil, while the younger boy made a pass for the phone but Otabek managed to evade his advances.

 

The brunette continued typing, but the upward curl of his lips indicated he did hear Yuri’s thoughts, “It’ll be a custom made one with tiger stripes…just wait…”

 

NNN

 

Otabek’s body was stiff.  It had been a long time since he had practiced under a Russian coach.  Outside of his eyes taking in the sight of Yuri Plisetsky, Yakov’s summer camp hadn’t been a positive experience for the skater.  The brunette watched as Sergei followed Yuri on the ice.  The older Russian corrected Yuri’s posture and positioning, with every lift of the arm and touch of the leg. 

 

The Kazakh came out of a sit spin to find the Russian coach watching him with appraising eyes.  “Otabek, let’s warm your muscles up,” kindly offered Sergei. “You’re rather stiff this morning.”

 

It didn’t get better as Sergei laughed, after trying to move such a rigid mass.  “Okay…on second thought,” Sergei’s brown eyes reflecting some understanding of the situation, “Yuri? Come over here kid!”

 

Yuri skated up to the pair, his hair half pulled back and emerald eyes trying to grasp the situation.  “What’s up?”

 

“I need you to go through the motions with Otabek,” Sergei explained, “He’s all tensed up, so I thought you can do it while I go work with another student.”

 

“Huh?”

 

And with that Sergei left them to it…

 

NNN

 

Yuri skated forwards moving through the training exercises with his best friend.  His hands gently correcting incorrect posture and fingers brushing against the sensitive muscles in the Kazakh’s arms. 

 

“Why are you upset?”

 

His boyfriend’s words made the brunette frown.  “I’m not—

 

“You are,” interjects the Russian, his emerald eyes focusing on lifting an arm and fixing the position.  “You don’t want to be here?”

 

“You know I do,” affirms Otabek, his eyes lingering on Yuri’s face.  “It’s just different.”

 

Yuri ran his gloved hands along the Kazakh’s arms, “Relax,  _asshole_.”  He lifted Otabek’s elbow and observed his form.  “It’s just us here,” explained the blond, “No Viktor and Katsudon making us gag and no Mila trying to get you to go on a fucking date with her…”

 

Yuri seemed content as Otabek’s body seemed to release its tension with a small laugh.  “You know I like blonds.”

 

The Russian smiled before voicing his thoughts, “It’d be awesome if you could train with me, but I get it.  Your home is in Kazakhstan.”

 

Otabek couldn’t help but think that it would be _awesome_ to train with Yuri; however, he worried about how their relationship would fare going from hardly seeing one another to doing so almost daily.  He was thankful that Yuri understood that Kazakhstan was where he currently belonged—even if a large piece of his head and heart resided in Russia.  

 

NNN

 

Otabek had felt a little intimidated in response to all the wondering eyes from the girls at Yuri’s rink.  The Kazakh sighed, all  _Yuri’s Angels_  in the making, he was certain.  He had made the mistake of going to the side board to retrieve his water bottle which had given them the opportunity to pepper him with questions.

 

“How long have you known Yuri?”

 

“Don’t you think he is amazing?”

 

“He is Sergei’s star here at our rink.”

 

“You’re not trying to steal him from us, are you?”

 

With that, the brunette inhaled water down the wrong pipe and sputtered in response.  Yuri conveniently skated up to him and gently slapped his back, giving the younger girls a look of confusion.  With a few  _tee-hees_ escaping their lips they returned to their own routines. 

 

Sergei’s teaching method was a far cry from Yakov or Otabek’s own coach—he allowed for Yuri to warm up to whichever genre of music he wanted, and it seemed to do wonders for his artistry. 

 

The Russian coach skated toward them with a smile, “Yuri, you want to work on your free skate?”

 

Yuri grinned, “Should I?  I mean, in front of the competition?”

 

Sergei seemed to take this into consideration, placing his finger to his chin in thought, “I guess that means Otabek will have to practice his.”  The brown eyed man seemed to have an equally shitty sense of humor as he continued, “It’s only fitting that he goes first since Otabek is a guest at our rink.”

 

Otabek sighed, feeling that Sergei and Yuri were a little too well equipped for one another. 

 

NNN

 

Otabek’s free skate was something he wasn’t accustomed to.  Embracing artistry over technique wasn’t his forte; however, he knew he had to develop a stronger skill set if he wanted to climb the ranks.  Yuri had been surprised when Sergei hit the music and Tchaikovsky’s _Pas de Deux_ filled the rink’s speakers. 

 

Yuri leaned against the sideboard, his eyes taking in every movement of his best friend as Otabek moved across the ice.  The blond’s eyes softened, it was like the first time he had seen the Kazakh skate at the Grand Prix Final—he had been moved then too.  Otabek’s artistry was developing with every season, and the technical components were strong—the music peaked and Otabek landed a quad toe, triple toe.  Sergei’s voice gave words of support as he called out, giving suggestions on bettering those moves. 

 

This season would be a reflection; having changed since their first meeting in Barcelona.  Otabek, quietly accepting a failed past in ballet, but preserving, while Yuri continued to run toward the future. 

 

The blond observed the difficult footwork—Otabek wasn’t pulling any punches this season.  Good.  Because neither was he. 

 

NNN 

 

Yuri’s free skate selection this season would be _O Fortuna_ composed by Carl Orff.  It was a piece known for its _mezzo staccato_ —and Otabek was both impressed and nervous for his boyfriend due to the driving nature of the music.   

 

Yuri took the center of the rink and seemed to still his mind in anticipation of the music.  Otabek watched as the Russian took flight in time with the thumping of drums as the fascinating tale of _fate_ filled the air. 

 

Sergei’s instructions were clear yet reassuring, “Cross, jump,” he articulated on the _forte_.  “Up, tightly on the footwork!  There you go!” 

 

Otabek watched as Yuri’s speed increased with the intensity of the music.  Yuri had always been a fierce skater, but this year he was working to tell the tale of a soldier challenging his fate.   

 

“Get on it!”   Otabek only half listened to the Russian’s words, his focus mainly on the blond. 

 

The jumps were so tightly placed together, it left no room for mistake or the Russian would surely fall behind in the timing of the program.  It was still the preseason, but Yuri Plisetsky was surely demonstrating a solid routine for the Grand Prix.   

 

NNN

 

“Yuri?”  Otabek called over the noise from the shower head in the next stall. 

 

“Yeah?”  he heard the immediate response, steam wafting up between the two stalls. 

 

“Is your grandfather still planning on ruining our diets?”

 

The Kazakh could hear his stall mate laugh, validating Otabek’s remark. 

 

“You’ll hurt Dedushka’s feelings if you don’t eat his pirozhki.”   

 

“Uh huh…” the brunette didn’t sound so certain, “More like it’ll hurt your stomach.  Not everyone can eat his weight in food and not gain a pound.”  He pushed his head back to rinse the shampoo in his hair and just caught the sound of the shower curtain opening.

 

“You don’t have anything to worry about either,” offhandedly remarked the Russian, his face the only thing visible in the hole now created, as he peeked in, past the shower curtain.

 

Otabek could feel his face flush and hoped it would be mistaken as an effect from the heat in the stall but frowned as he noted that his friend resembled at damn Cheshire Cat.    

 

NNN

 

They had stopped by Yuri’s apartment to drop off their gear and feed Potya.  The damn cat was spoiled as hell, but Otabek made good use of his time while she indulged herself in her canned food—as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and gave him a squeeze. 

 

“You’ll podium with that free skate, _Otaya_ ,” informed the Russian, occupying a spot on the couch and leaning his back against his best friend. 

Otabek’s back was comfortable against the arm of the sofa, his arms around Yuri’s waist and chin resting on the blond’s shoulder.  “That’s the plan.  Kick your ass this year at the grand prix.” He watched as Yuri scrolled through his social media. 

 

Yuri turned his head and grinned, “I’ll be sure to be at my best this season,” he paused and gave a slight shrug, “but you’re the only fucking person I’d be alright with losing to.”  

 

The brunette leaned forward and pressed his lips against his boyfriend’s.  It was times like these that the Kazakh felt like he had already won gold, just by having this boy in his life. 

 

NNN

 

“Otabek,” greeted Nikolai Plisetsky as he took the teen’s hand and gave it a friendly shake, “I hope that Yurotchka was on his best behavior when he visited last month.” 

 

The Kazakh smiled, “Yuri left such an impression, that my _aje_ wants to adopt him,” he admitted before returning the friendly gesture.

 

NNN

 

Otabek was stuffed by the time he had finished Nikolai’s amazing pirozhkis.  The elderly man had been just as accommodating this time as when Otabek had visited in January, and without Yuri’s advice the brunette had easily been defeated at the game of chess. 

 

Yuri on the other hand had held out a lot longer and the game had continued for some time before Nikolai found himself at a dead end and admitted his defeat.  The blond kindly pushed the last piece off the board and claimed victory before they said their goodbyes.    

           

NNN

 

The second day of warming up on the ice in Moscow had gone a lot better.  Otabek’s movements were more fluid and Sergei had propositioned the brunette soon after.

 

“You wouldn’t consider moving to Moscow any time soon, would you?”  Sergei asked with a sly grin. 

 

Otabek kindly toweled the sweat from his brow and admitted, “I’m flattered, but Kazakhstan is really my home.”

 

Sergei leaned against the backboard and sighed, “I figured you’d say that.  Would you at least consider being a star in my ice show next spring?  I’d love to choreograph a skate for you and Yuri.”

 

NNN

 

Otabek wasn’t certain why they had returned to the rink after lunch.  Everyone had already left for the day, but Yuri had been rather excited to show the Kazakh something.

 

Yuri’s emerald eyes held that look—the one when he was busting at the seams with something exciting on his mind.  It made the brunette’s lips curl upward in response.

 

“Okay,” he played along, “what did you want to show me so badly?”

 

Yuri had quickly laced up his skates and made his way over to the sound system in record time. 

 

“I want to show you a skate I have been working on,” remarked the blond, hooking a wire from his phone into the back of a speaker.

 

“Is it for an exhibition?”  the Kazakh’s arms were crossed in front of him as he watched the blond set everything in place.

 

“No,” indicated Yuri as he shook his head, “it’s something different.  I won’t perform this because it’s a gift.”

 

“Okay?” 

 

Yet before he could question his best friend any further, he was being led back toward the ice and having a remote shoved into his hand. 

 

“I’ll tell you when, just have a seat…”

 

There was something different in the Russian’s voice, a hidden emotion that Otabek couldn’t pinpoint.  However, he did as he was told and took a seat as Yuri skated to the middle of the ice.  Brown eyes watched as Yuri seemed to take a deep breath and settle his mind.

 

“Alright…” came the que, “I’m ready.”

 

Yet Otabek wasn’t—for the moment he hit the play button on the remote the speakers echoed something close to his heart.

 

_“I’m going to play you something. I was going to save it for your birthday…hell, you might not even like it…”_

 

Yuri had choreographed the music Otabek had played across a Skype chat while the Russian was in a coma.  He watched as his best friend glided across the ice, bearing his soul with every spin and landing a jump with targeted accuracy.  Otabek’s breath hitched, his pulse echoing loudly in his ears, the performance was just as the brown eyed boy had envisioned when he created the piece.  It reflected Yuri’s understanding—it was a reciprocation of feelings.   

 

NNN

 

Yuri’s chest heaves and he takes the back of his gloved hand to swipe at the sweat on his face.  Otabek looks anything but stoic and it makes Yuri grin proudly as he skates up to his best friend. 

 

“I wanted to return the favor,” honestly admits the Russian, “show you that your birthday present was fucking amazing.”  He stops in front of the brunette and places a hand on his hip before announcing, “Happy early birthday, _asshole_.  I’ll still take you out for dinner in Finland but—

 

Otabek kisses him with such passion that Yuri’s afraid he’s going to fall over backwards, now that the adrenaline from the performance is leaving his body.  His boyfriend must anticipate this, because an arm wraps securely around his waist, keeping him upright on the ice.  Yuri’s hands find their way to the lapels of Otabek’s jacket, pulling him closer, and the Russian deepens the kiss.   

           

NNN

It’s their last night together until Helsinki and the feeling of skin on skin and the emotions behind the actions are just like their time spent in Almaty.  Yuri made sure to overfeed the Ragdoll and shut the bedroom door, when it appeared that things might take this turn.  Otabek had last seen her purring and seemingly lapsing into a food coma at the foot of the couch. 

 

Yuri’s emerald eyes gaze downward at Otabek, his fingers running through dark brown hair, as he smiles.  He can feel Otabek’s hands on his hips, the way his thumbs draw imaginary pictures on them.  More than anything, he can see his emotions reflected in almond eyes—he’s safe and wanted, and he can’t imagine being this close to another person. 

 

It’s not an uncomfortable silence—Otabek just seems to _get him_.  It’s kind of crazy to think that they started out as rivals, then Otabek saved his ass in Barcelona, the two became friends and now have transitioned to what?  _Lovers?_   It’s not like either of them had held one before, maybe why it was more meaningful? 

 

Everything with Otabek was, no, _is_ amazing—from their rivalry, to their adventures, and the way Otabek readily accepts him.  It doesn’t require much more thought than that—Yuri’s always been an _actions speak louder than words_ kind of guy.

 

“I like it when you smile,” whispers the Kazakh, his almond eyes intently watching the blond’s face.

 

“It’s fucking hard not to with you,” observes Yuri, moving just so and listening as Otabek’s breath hitches in response, from the feeling. 

 

Yuri leans down and places a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s lips and Otabek can tell that the Russian is grinning like a damn Cheshire Cat.  Not one to easily lose, the brunette easily reverses their roles and smiles as Yuri’s golden hair halos around the pillow instead.

 

Otabek can hear his best friend laugh and call him an _asshole_ , as he wraps his legs tightly around the older boy’s waist and draws him nearer.  Otabek isn’t certain why he’s been granted this amazing position in Yuri’s life.  He just knows that being with Yuri is a privilege.  Every kiss, every reaction from the ways their bodies fit together in this almost natural rhythm, feels like electricity coursing through his body.  Otabek never wants it to end…however…

 

A thump on the door.

 

Accompanied by the sound of scratching.

 

A frantic mewing.

 

Yuri’s laughter as he says, “You’re alright…”

 

And the sound of disbelief as the pounding from the Ragdoll—who must just be throwing her weight into the door now, just spite him—intensifies is causing for the moment to slip away.

 

Yuri, never one to give a half assed performance whispers something shitty into Otabek’s ear.  Otabek snorts and is pretty sure Yuri Plisetsky will eventually be the death of him, but as the appointed Hero of Kazakhstan, he’s nothing but chivalrous. 

 

Therefore, like a good lover he’s going to finish the job, archnemesis be damned.

 

NNN

 

Leave a review if you have a moment and I’ll see you in Helsinki later this month!

           

 


	27. The Perfect Pair

Author’s Notes: In celebration of Otabek’s birthday week, I’ve been preoccupied with a few quick shots that I posted earlier.  With those out of my system, it’s time to get to Finland!  Smaller one but there will be a larger plot in the works after France. 

NNN

 

Arriving in Helsinki a few days prior to settle in and check out the city had been a good idea.  The outcomes of Skate America and Skate Canada had been decided—Katsuki and Leo for Gold and Silver; with JJ and Guang as their respective counterparts.  Viktor had determined that if this were going to be his last year, he was going to put his efforts into Nationals, the EU and Worlds.   

That was fine by Yuri, as Sergei’s game plan was aligning on a similar path.  Unfortunately, after the GPX in December, Otabek and Yuri’s paths wouldn’t cross for another three months.  They would figure that shit out, they always did—but that had been easier before they had become intimately involved.  It sucked for both, living on separate continents and all, but if relationships were easy more people would be in them. 

Yuri had let himself into Otabek’s hotel room.  It was sort of their thing, gifting the spare key card to each of their rooms to one another.  He’d toed off his shoes at the door before making his way into the dimly lit room. 

It was still early, the sun’s rays just starting to seep in through the curtains as he made his way toward the bed.  Emerald eyes softened at the sight of the sleeping figure in bed.  Otabek Altin: hardly stoic with his bedhead, gripping his pillow tightly and curled up in a mass of bedding. 

NNN

Otabek began to show some life in response to the feeling of something poking his cheek in time with a single word:

“ _O-ta-ya…”_  

He stilled once more in an attempt to return to his dreams, but the same thing prodded him, and he sighed. 

Yuri sat cross legged next to his best friend, index finger against the Kazakh’s cheek and watched as one eyelid lifted.  Otabek resembled a sleepy little kid, as he relinquished the grip on the hotel pillow and seemed to take in the sight of the Russian.

“Happy birthday, _asshole_ ,” offhandedly remarked the blond from his comfortable spot and watched as the brunette’s lips held a slight smile.

NNN

Otabek was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when Yuri reached over and turned on the bed side lamp.  He leaned back, and shortly after, plopped an envelope and a small white box on the Kazakh’s lap.  The brown eyed boy could barely do anything more than blink in response to the sight of two travel cups being held up and the grin on his best friend’s face.  The Russian had gotten up early and been to a nearby bakery that morning, thus why he was fully clothed unlike his companion.

NNN

Otabek arched an eyebrow at the front of the birthday card with a cartoon cat reading:

_How Cute!  The cat has a knife to cut your birthday cake!_ The Kazakh opened the card and snickered as he read,

_Wait…the cat has a knife?!  Run for your life! (but have a Happy Birthday.)_

“Remind me to never let Potya near a knife,” the birthday boy good humoredly observed.

He opened the box to find fresh hot _korvapuusti_ (Finnish cinnamon rolls) and felt his mouth water as he inhaled the sweet aroma. 

Yuri had procured napkins from the bakery and held one out to his boyfriend with a word of advice, “Don’t let them get cold.  I stood in a long ass line, for these to come out of the oven this morn—

Emerald eyes widened at the feeling of soft lips capturing his own and the feel of warm palms against his cheeks. 

“You’re so bad for my diet, but I fucking love you, _Yura_.”

NNN

The sign at the gate read: _Linnanmäki_ or roughly translated to _Castle Hill_. 

The amusement park housed 43 rides—some of the world’s largest and fastest roller coasters—and attractions ranging from a history museum to a theatre.  The best part was all the proceeds for admission went to the child welfare society. 

The park was situated in amongst the rock formations and forest of the country’s capital city.  The average temperature was about fifty, and being a week day, the park was less crowded. Otabek couldn’t really think of anything more entertaining than spending the day with Yuri trying out as many rides as they could before they puked. 

He may be 20…but he wasn’t _that_ mature.

NNN

Otabek Altin occupied a seat next to his boyfriend.  The seat had an over the shoulder restraint and was floorless allowing for their legs to swing freely, in these eight-seater, circular styled train cars. 

The convenient roller coaster specs were posted on a nearby sign. 

_Name: Kirnu (translation—Butter Churn)_

_Height: 25.4 m or 83 feet_

_Speed: 37 mph_

_Duration: 1 minute_

“Scared?” 

Yuri’s taunting made Otabek’s brow furrow in response as he challenged, “No,” he paused before teasing, “Why are you?”

The Russian scoffed, emerald eyes narrowing, “Hardly,” before the car began with a jerk. 

Their playful jabs continued as the car moved forward along the track with a rhythmic _click click click_ on its way toward its first peak.

Yuri’s hands took hold of the foam padding on each of the shoulder restraints—just as a precaution—and Otabek silently copied his actions. 

Well, shit…this was a piece of cake the pair had deduced after the first descent. 

The game changer started slowly, as the pair mirrored the wheels on the bus going _round and round_ …

However, by the next plunge…

Both just really hoped that the other 6 riders weren’t fluent in either Russian or Kazakh because there was simply _nothing_ holy about the words being flung through the air.

NNN

You know, things seldom look as high from the ground up…

Even when the visitor is standing in line and reading about the attraction:

_Name: Kingi (translation—King of the Hill)_

_Height: 75 m or 246 feet_

_Speed: 51 mph_

_Disclaimer: Not recommended if you are pregnant or have a cardiovascular or musculoskeletal disorder._

_Duration: Longer than either of these two idiots thought._

The familiar seat with the shoulder bar restraint, and their feet swinging as the gondola styled chair lifted them slowly into the air, made nothing seem amiss. 

Yuri looked down below as they continued to climb.

“Holy shit,” he commented to his companion in the nearby seat, “I can fucking see the entire park and the mountains.”

Otabek moved his attention toward where the Russian currently pointed and nodded.  They couldn’t see the height of the mountains on the other attractions they had been on.  Was this ride truly that much higher?

Sadly, the Kazakh didn’t have too much time to contemplate the idea as the chair reached its required height and then about 30 seconds later proceeded to drop them at 51 miles per hour!

Not a single explicative was uttered this time around since both had been knocked breathless.  Yuri’s hands were shaking around the foam padded bars of the chair, from the death grip and rush of adrenaline.  Otabek’s were white knuckled, his entire body tense, as he took in the sight of his best friend.  He looked like a startled cat, wide eyed and trying to regain his breath.  The brunette was certain that he looked equally as disheveled.

“That…” Yuri managed, feigning a sense of bravado, “wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Yeah,” Otabek confirmed, pushing aside the feeling of his shaking legs, as his voice held the same cockiness to it, “not bad at all…”

Unfortunately, neither had taken notice that they hadn’t entirely made it to the ground just yet, their jaws dropping as they quickly plunged to—no, not their deaths, because where is the fun in that?  Plunged to the ground level where a smiling attendant hit the flash of her camera and took their photo.

Afterwards the pair went for rides a little closer to the ground…

NNN

They grabbed dinner at the hotel’s onsite restaurant and brought dessert back to Otabek’s room.  The Kazakh realized, this had been a great way to spend his birthday as he wrapped his arms around Yuri.  They had settled in on the sofa, a couple pieces of Finnish blueberry pie in a box occupied the Russian’s lap as he leaned back into his boyfriend’s embrace.  Yuri held up the remote control for the TV to Otabek.

The Kazakh joked as he took the remote in hand, “Oh, so I get the remote control and you get dessert?”

Almond eyes blinked as a fork, with a piece of pie neared his mouth.  Otabek regarded Yuri seriously, “Isn’t this closing in on Viktor and Katsuki’s level of sap?”

Yuri pursed his lips in thought and gave a shrug, “If you don’t want it…”  The Russian turned his head after feeling the weight at the end of the fork disappear. 

Otabek chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, “I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”

“Don’t expect me to feed you,” the blond informed, “I draw the line at becoming anything like those idiots.”

“We’d have to seriously up our PDAs and our presence on social media to match their level,” Otabek was quick to explain.

Both laughed after they blurted simultaneously, “And that’s never going to happen.”

NNN

It was a typical press conference.  Yuri occupied a seat at the middle of the table, Otabek to his left and Michele to his right.  A good deal of the room were English speaking, so the questions had begun in this fashion.

“Yuri, this is your first competition since taking gold at World’s back in March,” began the middle-aged female journalist.  She spoke slowly, as was the fashion in the international community, “There are many who believe you had a falling out with your former coach Yakov Feltsman?”

Oh, these shitheads were always looking to stir up dirt on someone, and they would do it with a smile too. 

Yuri, was actually pretty good at press conferences, despite his normal outward appearance.  The blond, currently in first after the short program, considered the question before addressing the audience in English.

“No,” he paused, because words in his native tongue didn’t always translate into another language, “I do not have any ill feelings toward Yakov.”  Yuri made note of the journalists scribbling his words into their notepads.  “I would not be where I am today without Yakov.  He taught me the…”   

Otabek found it difficult to concentrate when his boyfriend was being so cute, but he managed as Yuri asked him in Russian for the English counterpart, he required to continue his statement.  The Kazakh happily obliged and watched as Yuri nodded before returning his attention to the crowd.

“The _foundations_ of figure skating and I owe Yakov a lot.”

It was a far cry from the Russian translation of, “ _Yakov taught me a lot of great shit and I’m kicking ass today because of it!”_

Once this conference hit YouTube, fans were going to lose their shit in the comments section about Yuri asking his best friend for help in English.  The little heart emojis would eventually take over, as words of _bromance_ hit the scene.

“Otabek,” began a young male reporter, “you’ve come off a bronze medal at Worlds, placing Kazakhstan on the world scene.  You’re currently second after the short program.  What can we expect from your free skate tomorrow?”

The brunette regarded the room.  God, he hated public speaking, but having his best friend next to him helped.  He cleared his throat and stated, “This season I have put great effort into my artistry.  In the past, my focus has been more on the technical components, but I haven’t done as well in other areas.”

NNN

It was an entirely new concept for the pair to get dinner and watch a movie at an actual theater!  Things were relatively close to their hotel, so they had opted to walk to the venue.  Even after a good meal at the café, there was always room for popcorn. 

Now, it wasn’t like date night for this pair was going to demonstrate similar tastes in film; while Viktor and Katsuki would have chosen the _Disney_ rendition of _The Nutcracker_ , these two were going for the final installment of _Halloween._

After snagging their tickets, Yuri bought the popcorn, while Otabek paid for the drinks at the concession stand.  They’d opted for seats in the back, for sometimes the movie was just as entertaining as the people in the theater. 

Ah, yes…the perfect film for this couple, for as the lights dimmed, the two reclined back in their comfy seats.  Yuri soon felt Otabek’s fingers lacing through his as they shared a bucket of popcorn. 

It was soon raining snacks from the front rows as popcorn and an assortment of candy sailed upward in response to the killer’s appearance. 

NNN

“Where are you going?”

Otabek’s sleepy voice caught the Russian’s attention as he sat on the edge of the mattress and laced his sneakers.   Yuri turned and took in his best friend’s appearance—the persona of tired.

“I’ve got to meet Lilia and Sergei in a few hours,” he explained, watching as the brunette lay on his side, cheek pressed into the white pillowcase.

“Can you stay for a few more minutes?”  The invitation had been offered with the Kazakh reaching out toward his boyfriend.

Yuri rolled his eyes, “I already have my sneakers on,” he huffed, but his affect didn’t match the tone. 

“I don’t care,” even in a tired trance, Otabek could be snarky, “the shit that comes out of your mouth is dirtier than what’s on your shoes.”

Yuri burst out laughing.  Yeah, this was why they were kind of perfect for one another.  

NNN

There were times when Yuri wondered if beating Otabek made the Kazakh resent him.  The Russian had snagged another gold, Otabek securing silver—both obtaining 15 and 13 points, as they made their way toward the 26-point minimum to secure a spot in the finals.

Yuri had gone to his hotel room to change.  It was true, their friendship hadn’t been smooth sailing after Yuri had won gold in Barcelona.  In fact, it took Mila and other—annoying—individuals to state the obvious, that sometimes people needed to be left alone after suffering a blow. 

The blond was blunt by nature, life hadn’t been easy for him, so expression was the only thing he could relate to.  If I’ve pissed you off, say so, because Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t a fucking mind reader.

It wasn’t like Yuri hadn’t experienced defeat—that fucking Canadian shithead had bested him twice in one season.  However, Yuri wasn’t in love with a shithead, he was in love with an _asshole_ named Otabek Altin. 

He wasn’t particularly well versed in _beating around the bush_ so the conversation when Otabek arrived at his room started out rocky…

The brunette could tell immediately that something was off just by the way Yuri was pursing his lips.  Yuri only did this when he was considering how someone may react to his unspoken thought. 

In fact, Yuri’s entire demeanor suggested that he was uncomfortable by the idea that popped into his mind and was troubled by it.  Otabek, however, was a patient person—even more so when it came to Yuri Plisetsky—so he sat quietly on the edge of the bed and waited.

The blond took a deep breath and sourly asked, “Otabek,” his eyes left his best friend and stared at a corner of the room, “do you fucking hate me?”

Otabek blinked as though he had been slapped.  He’d never dreamed that would be Yuri’s question—he thought if anything Viktor or something might have been the catalyst.  His brows immediately furrowed.

“Why would you think something like that?” 

Yuri was trying not to overreact to the annoyance in Otabek’s voice.  He regarded his best friend and sullenly stated, “I mean, you probably have a right to.” 

Now Otabek was getting frustrated with his boyfriend, “Yuri, you’re not making any sense.  Did someone slip something in your water bottle?”

Bad move.

“I’m being fucking serious, you _asshole_!”

The tension filled the air in response the Russian’s outburst.  Yuri’s eyes swimming in a pool of emotion that made Otabek still. 

“I don’t want you to fucking resent me,” his voice seemed torn between anger and unhappiness, “because I always win.”

The older boy was shocked, listening to the grief in Yuri’s voice, “I won’t keep my government aid, and I can’t take care of dedushka if I don’t place.” 

The blond’s hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides and when his eyes met the Kazakh’s, Otabek was certain that he would drown in the depths of emotion being targeted toward him.

“But I don’t want to fucking lose you either.”

It was as if the spell had been broken, the older boy stood and in a matter of seconds took hold of his best friend and pulled the teen into his arms.

“Hey,” he soothed, the last thing Otabek wanted to do was to sound patronizing, “Yeah, it’s fucking frustrating to come in second or third to you.” The brunette confirmed before continuing, “But I love you, _Yura_.”   

He held Yuri at arms length to regard the emerald eyed boy, “But that’s _my_ fucking problem, not yours.” 

The Russian’s posture suggested that he wasn’t placated by this declaration, as Otabek massaged his shoulders trying to will away the tension in them and voiced, “It’s because when I skate, my country is important, but as a figure skater, it’s _you_ …you’ve always been the inspiration.  You’re my goal as a skater.” 

The accompanying blush on the Kazakh’s face with his confession, and the sincerity in his voice, were all factors in what happened next, for Yuri Plisetsky couldn’t remember the last time he had cried.

The Russian only knew, that other than his dedushka, he finally had someone he wanted to fight for… 

NNN

If you enjoyed and would be so kind as to leave kudos or a review it would be appreciated.  See you in France in a few weeks.

 


	28. All I Want and All I Need

Disclaimer: Time for a Boring Note: 

I started this series over a year ago, with no real direction, and nothing more fueling it than my love of this ship.  It was my first attempt at trying to capture the feelings that I felt in response to the series, and I was just happy to have one review.

Thirteen months in and I don’t have an end in sight, and I just want to sincerely thank you for the comments you leave as a reader.  They motivate me to be a better writer, and humor is generally my medium, for the world is far too serious. 

I love that you are invested, find humor, and see the characters staying true to what has been demonstrated through the YOI series.  The most important aspect to me during the creation of this tale was not to time skip because I wanted the challenge.  It takes me a great deal of time to develop scenes because I do not want to misrepresent the wonderful characters that Kubo sensei has created.

With that being said, our ship has become legit in this series, and it took over a year to advance that relationship from friends to lovers. Phew!     

Here’s to more laughs, a roller coaster of feelings and a stronger fandom!  

_Asuka02RedEva_

 

NNN

The NKH Trophy in Japan ended with Katsudon taking gold, with a total of 30 points.  Viktor had been disgusting—posting words of adoration on his social media accounts.  It made Yuri wonder why he even followed the old geezer?

The Rostelecom Cup was this weekend, and since the blond now lived in Moscow, he didn’t have to worry about travel plans for once in his career.  The teen had gotten a text—one full of far too much excitement—from Guang, who was also competing.  He’d never been to Moscow and wanted to see if the Russian would give him a tour. 

Whatever.  It’s not like Yuri had any better offers…or so he would later tell himself…

NNN

“Huh?!”  Yuri’s disbelief rang out, “You’ve never had a pirozhki?”

The Chinese boy looked embarrassed.  “I’m afraid I haven’t, but these are amazing!”

Yuri had always believed that outside of Otabek, the only other tolerable skaters on the international circuit were Guang and Leo.  Guang’s statement just strengthened the belief. 

NNN

The emerald eyed boy occupied a booth opposite of his cheery Chinese companion.  He dragged a napkin across his face to catch the remains of pirozhki; however, Yuri’s eyes didn’t miss how Guang’s would widen or soften in response to a text message on his phone.  They were obviously from Leo.  The American had taken silver in Japan, giving him a solid chance with 26 points.  Anything could still happen between Russia and France in the way of scores. 

The blond brought his tea cup to his lips and found himself seriously observing his friend’s expression.  Did Yuri make those faces when Otabek texted him?  Did Otabek’s stoic expression crack when he saw a shitty response from Yuri?  Did his dark brown eyes ever soften the way Guang’s were now?   

The younger boy took a sip of the warm liquid and realized that he probably had been in love with his best friend for longer than he had been consciously aware.  If Otabek had never confessed in Hatsetsu, would they have gone on only as friends?  Or would Yuri have eventually determined those feelings were beyond platonic? 

It didn’t really fucking matter now, did it?  Otabek Altin was Yuri’s second most important person.  No wait, that wasn’t true, because Potya came in second—he’d known her longer.  The Russian felt his lips curl around the tea cup at the thought of sharing with the Kazakh that he ranked below a cat.  Yuri could even see the way Otabek would react from the newfound information—the furrow of his brows, the sour expression and the shitty retort. 

Yeah, it didn’t matter how Yuri responded to a text message from Otabek because the brunette was his…

NNN

Otabek’s eyes softened at the pictures Yuri had been tagged in on social media.  Guang looked excited, his chestnut brown eyes full of childlike innocence, with his arm around Yuri’s neck as they stood outside of Saint Basil’s Cathedral with its colorful onion domes.  The Russian seemed to have a good-humored expression, giving a peace sign in response to the selfie. 

It reminded Otabek of January when he and Yuri had spent the day site seeing—their first official date.  Otabek leaned back in his desk chair and closed his eyes.  That had been the day the older boy knew he and his best friend were going to be a real couple, after meeting Nikolai Plisetsky. 

Yuri didn’t have his cheetah earmuffs this time around, which Otabek felt was a darn shame because they made him look cute.  Even cuter was the comment Guang had attached to the picture, _‘Russian around with my favorite guide!’ #RussianinRussia, #PirozhkisareAmazing, #NotWorthy._

Later, Yuri would be tagged in more photos and Otabek would ~~probably~~ view them all.  There was a swell of pride that appeared in the brunette’s chest whenever people would positively comment about his boyfriend.  Yuri was an amazing person, but Otabek was privileged to see all the sides of Yuri which remained hidden on the ice. 

NNN

In just two years the senior stage had changed, with Yuri’s entrance to the field.  Each year more juniors debuted, and the rules for the technical component had changed.  The free skate was longer, the jumps were rated at a harder grade, and a ten percent bonus could be awarded in the second half of the program. 

History showed how Russia had dominated in the category of women’s figure skating and pairs; while the men had to claw and fight for the podium against strong countries like Canada, the United States and Japan.  Viktor Nikiforov had been a shining light to Russia and an inspiration to those who wanted to follow the silver haired man’s path for not only themselves but their country.

Yuri had felt the burden of such a path—both financially and physically—throughout his childhood.  Sponsorships came in response to medals and being able to compete internationally required strong backing from the Russian Federation.  This mentality is why Yuri Plisetsky was so driven on the ice.  How could he support his grandfather if he didn’t win?

The Russian is convinced, as he occupies a spot on his bed, head cushioned against the pillow, listening to the voice of his boyfriend, that he would never have become close to Otabek had the Kazakh not extended his hand to him that day in Barcelona.     

And what a loss that would have been…

For as the blond closes his eyes, hearing Otabek’s deep voice on the other end of the line, wishing him well in the short program tomorrow, he is nothing but grateful. 

_‘Yura?’_

“Yeah?” Yuri responds, trying to envision how Otabek would look if he were resting along side of him. 

_‘I miss you and your bitch of a cat too.’_

Yuri lets a laugh escape from his lips and he swears he can see the brunette smile from miles away.  “She trumps you in my most favorite persons list.”

_‘That’s it, I’m rooting for Guang tomorrow.’_

 NNN

Yuri had taken first after the short program and Guang had held his own against the other competitors to come in forth.  The competition was tough, with a handful of seasoned skaters possessing multiple quads and two making their senior debuts. 

The emerald eyed boy lazily toweled his hair and opened his locker to see his phone still lit from a notification.  He swiped his thumb across the screen, his other hand stilling, as he couldn’t help but grin.

**Otaya:** _Is it too late to change sides?  I’ve got a lead on this little shit who is going to take Gold._

**Yuri:** _I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll take you back, asshole._

**Otaya:** _Yura?_

**Yuri:** _Yeah?_

**Otaya:** _Kick ass tomorrow, I bet JJ twenty bucks you’d win just to shut that shithead up on Leo’s group chat._

**Yuri:** _Your confidence in me is worth only twenty bucks?_

**Otaya:** _And dinner in Vancouver._

**Yuri:** _An all you can eat styled dinner?_

**Otaya:** _Would I give you anything less?_

**Yuri:** _Throw in dessert and you’ve got a deal._

**Otaya:** _Yura, I’ll buy you an entire cake if you promise to shove half of it in JJ’s face._

**Yuri:** _Consider it done._

NNN

Guang looked troubled as they walked down the sidewalk towards a café.  Yuri had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he couldn’t just ignore the glum expression on the boy’s face, and it annoyed him.

“What’s wrong with you?”

The Chinese boy was growing accustomed to the gruffness of the skater—definitely more bark than bite to his words.  Guang sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “I just want to meet Leo at the finals…”

Yuri arched a pale eyebrow and offered, “And why wouldn’t you?”

They waited for the crossing light to change, now standing at the intersection.  Guang watched as his breath came out in small puffs and bit his lip nervously, burrowing his face into his red scarf before mumbling, “I don’t want my journey to end, but the competition is fierce.”

“Huh?”  The younger boy’s annoyance clearly rang out, “What the fuck kind of attitude is that?” 

The chestnut-haired boy blinked and noticed that Yuri’s emerald eyes were fixed on him as the blond continued, “You want to see him, right?”

Guang nodded and opened his mouth, but the Russian cut him to the pass, “Then fucking see him.  Get on the podium with me tomorrow and we’ll go to the finals.”  Yuri looked embarrassed as he turned his attention toward crossing the street.  “You can buy me one of those crepes you always talk about…”

NNN

Otabek was finishing up the live stream of Rostelecom, proudly watching as his best friend made his way toward the podium when his phone vibrated.  He looked down and couldn’t stop the smile from making its way to his face.

**Leo:** Guang told me that he owes Yuri a crepe in Vancouver.  He said Yuri gave him the confidence to win silver today.  You’re up next!  Let’s all go out during the finals!

The Kazakh knew that would be a date he would want to keep.  First, he would have to make it through France. 

NNN

Otabek was in France awaiting the start of the final leg which would determine who went to the Grand Prix Final.  He opted to send Yuri a text…

**Otabek:** _Would you be mad if I called you later?  A former rink mate of mine is in this competition._

**Yura:** _Don’t be an asshole.  You can call me tomorrow if you want._

**Otabek:** _I’ll try to call you tonight…_

**Yura:** _You know you don’t have to._

**Otabek:** _I want to. _

Yuri would be a fucking liar if he said his lips didn’t curl upward around his water bottle as he took a break at practice. 

NNN

It had been a long time since Otabek had seen his former rink mate.  They’d met in Canada when Otabek was sixteen and Marius DuBois had been seventeen.  The pair had both been taken in under JJ’s parents.  Perhaps they had been kindred spirits—both teenagers, away from home and missing their families, striving for greatness in a foreign country.  The Frenchman had it easier due to most people speaking a combination of French and English. 

Otabek could recall himself looking up to the dark-haired boy with clear blue eyes.  He’d been tall and well built, but as Marius sat across from him in the pub’s booth, Otabek realized he’d really grown.  It was nostalgic, the way they had fallen back into a comfortable gathering.  Back in the day, the brunette had appreciated the fact that Marius enjoyed doing most of the talking—he appeared to still. 

Marius had suffered an injury about three years ago—practically destroyed a thigh muscle, had to partake in physical therapy, and had climbed his way back to competitive figure skating.  He’d managed to snag a bronze in Skate America and was happy to compete in his home country even if he didn’t make it to the finals.

The Kazakh wasn’t sure when he had lost count over how many beers he had consumed.  The conversation had kept him interested and the drinks had continued to appear on the table as if willing Otabek to drink them. 

Marius gave an appraising expression from across the table, his nose crinkling in amusement, “You’re wasted, aren’t you?”

“No,” Otabek wasn’t certain how the drawl of _one_ word could sound so revealing.  He felt his cheeks flush when Marius laughed and shook his head in memory.

“God, you haven’t changed,” remarked the Frenchman, setting down his now empty mug.  “All those times in Canada that we snuck into clubs and drank, I’d be the one hauling your drunk ass home.”

The younger boy opened his mouth to appeal the accusation, but Marius interjected, “Worrying that we’d get caught by one of JJ’s tribe, while hauling your dead weight up the stairs.”

The raven-haired man stood and gave a nod, “Well c’mon…I see I’m going to have to haul your ass to an Uber and up to your hotel room.”

NNN

Yuri set down his phone on his night stand and pulled Potya up to his chest.  She purred and lovingly bumped her head against his chin before settling down to kneed the fabric of his T-shirt as she occupied his chest.  The Russian hadn’t really expected Otabek to call him anyways.  After all, Moscow was two hours ahead of Grenoble. 

Outside of Otabek’s friends in Kazakhstan, he never mentioned any of his former rink mates.  Yuri knew that his boyfriend had trained in both the U.S. and Canada.  Maybe Otabek would share with him the details tomorrow? 

Yuri felt his eyelids growing heavy as the light of his phone’s screen started to dim and the rhythmic purring of his roommate began to lull him to sleep. 

NNN

When Otabek awoke, he knew two things.  It was bright, and he couldn’t remember what time Marius had managed to drag his drunk ass into his hotel room.  He moved his hand around until it reached the desired object, and yawned, bringing the cellphone into his line of view to see the exact time. 

When he hit the home button he saw a notification on his phone from the previous evening.

**Yura:** (12:42am) _Hey asshole, I hope you aren’t doing anything indecent like Katsudon.  Good luck tomorrow in the SP._

NNN

Otabek had his back pressed against the mattress of his hotel room, head on the uncomfortable pillow, but a familiar voice entering his ear as he held his phone in hand made him smile.  Yuri’s voice—the Kazakh wasn’t sure he would ever tire of it.

“I miss you…” the words rang out with little thought as the brunette closed his eyes. 

_“I’ll see you next week…”_

“I haven’t won _yet_.”

_“But you will tomorrow and then we’ll be in Vancouver.”_

Yuri’s faith in him was empowering.  It always managed to ignite a spark inside of Otabek.  He’d do anything—probably even illegal—to please this boy.      

NNN

It had been a tough skate, he’d barely been able to land the quad, but Otabek’s lead from the SP had managed to secure him the gold.  He stood in the shower of the locker room, his head bowed under the warm stream of water and sighed.  The Kazakh was both excited and relieved.  He’d be seeing his boyfriend in another week, and he really wanted Yuri to be with him now.  They could watch shitty movies, eat bad room service food, and Otabek would curl up next to the Russian and hold him as they fell asleep. 

The almond-eyed skater looked downward at his swollen knee and wondered if the water streaming down his cheeks was from the shower or himself.

NNN

In less than a year, Otabek had really hoped his knee would heal.  He recalled the way Marius had described his own injury at dinner the previous night.  Three years to get back to the competitive level.  It was a sickening thought because without the GPX, Worlds and invitationals, Otabek wouldn’t cross paths with Yuri until the offseason.  Even worse, the Kazakh wondered if his relationship with the Russian could withstand if they saw each other less than their current status. 

Otabek could forego Four Continents…that would give him time to recoup between Worlds…but right now he needed to at least focus on Vancouver. 

NNN

The knock on his door had Yuri making his way across the hotel room in fewer strides.  He opened the door, took in the sight of his boyfriend and found Otabek’s arms wrapped around him before the door had fully closed. 

There was something about the urgency of the action which made Yuri’s eyes widen, yet he embraced his boyfriend and pushed the thought aside.

They stood, grounded to the spot, Yuri’s chin resting on Otabek’s left shoulder, while Otabek pressed his cheek against the Russian’s and held the smaller boy close.  It was sappy as fuck, but since neither was going to state the obvious, and there seemed to be no qualms, it could continue.

NNN

That night, after the shitty movie and terrible food, Otabek ran his thumb gently across Yuri’s cheek.  The Russian barely stirred from his slumber, as his head rested on the nearby pillow, and Otabek sighed.  He’d been in love with Yuri for over a year, friends with the blond for two years, and the Kazakh hadn’t really considered what would happen if one of them couldn’t skate for a stint? 

He tried to calm his racing mind.  Their friendship had sustained over the course of two years.  Otabek would put his faith in Yuri Plisetsky, that even if the worse came true, their relationship would remain intact.

The older boy pulled the covers snuggly around them and rested his forehead against his best friend’s before whispering,

_“I love you, Yura.”_     

NNN

Short but more is coming for the GPX.  Leave kudos or a comment if you have a moment. I appreciate it. 


	29. In Case of an Emergency...

Author’s Notes:  Happy Holidays Everyone!  Tis the season for a little humor and holiday references...

NNN

 

Yuri awoke to literally no personal space.  He sighed, opening one eyelid to determine what he probably already knew.  Sure enough, he had become Otabek Altin’s private teddy bear.  The Kazakh seemed to be extra close, especially when sharing Yuri’s hotel bed. 

“You could have slept in your own room,” observed the Russian, feeling his boyfriend’s head bump his chin, as the brunette snuggled in deeper. 

“It’s because it’s so fucking cold in your room…” mumbled the Kazakh.  Yuri wasn’t sure if it were out of automatic response or if the brunette was fully awake?

The blond would have rolled his eyes at the situation, if his eyelids hadn’t already shut, deeming it far too early for any conversation.  Instead he merely took inventory of the situation—legs tangled, Otabek’s body half covering his, warm arms around his torso. 

With a huff—that really didn’t do him justice—Yuri patted Otabek’s head and teased, “Again, you could have slept in your own damn room, _asshole_.”  

Yuri could feel the way Otabek’s cheek shifted against his chest to indicate a smile, “I always sleep better at hotels when you’re close to me, you _little shit_.”

“Then quit your bitching,” the younger boy tried to rid the sap from his brain and focus on the task at hand—bed, “you act like you’re going to freeze to death.”

“It’s like thirty degrees in here, _Yura_ …” Otabek groaned over the humming of the air conditioner.

Yuri _tsked_ before announcing, “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s definitely thirty-five degrees,” he grinned and pushed his cheek against the white pillowcase, after wrapping an arm around his best friend’s shoulders, “And that’s fucking above freezing.”

NNN

Yuri had immediately noticed after the short program.  He had really hoped that Otabek would feel comfortable enough to confide in him, but when the brunette showed no signs of such conversation, it led the Russian to the idea of breaching the subject himself.

Their rooms were on the same floor and the elevator ride had been a bit awkward.  Yuri had taken second in the SP, Katsudon a few points ahead; however, Otabek had fallen forth after an underrotated quad.  Yuri had recognized the shift in the Kazakh’s gate as he walked.  Other than Otabek’s coach, the younger boy was certain no one knew his best friend’s body the way he did.

Aggressively confronting Otabek on the issue wasn’t going to be in Yuri’s best interest.  The Russian wasn’t exactly good at kindly expressing himself, and he didn’t want to fight with his boyfriend—who probably was feeling close to shit now.

They exited the elevator and shortly after Otabek’s room came into view.  The emerald eyed teen watched as the brunette stoically took his key card and swiped the card reader before making the decision to just go to his own room and come up with the proper way to introduce the subject. 

Yuri soon felt a hand on his wrist, ceasing his movement, as he slowly turned to meet the almond eyes of his boyfriend.  Otabek looked tired amongst the other feelings fighting inside of their depths.

NNN

They sat on the end of the hotel bed and a long exhale of breath started the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me in Finland?”

The words were softly spoken, and Yuri’s hand gently settled on Otabek’s knee. 

Otabek rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension in his body, “I was just so fucking happy,” he murmured, “I thought, I knew better than the doctors and I didn’t need to tell you.”

The elephant in the room was taking its sweet ass time leaving, as far as, Yuri was concerned. 

“What do they think is wrong with your knee?”  The Russian had some ideas; however, he wanted to hear it from Otabek’s lips.

“They mentioned a meniscus tear,” offered the brunette, feeling his best friend’s hand tighten around his knee in silent support.  They both knew what that signaled depending on the tear—the end of the season.  

It’s not like they were going to see one another until World’s anyways, but the concept of Otabek possibly not making it to the competition in Japan really hit home.  They weren’t fortunate enough to train and see each other daily.  It was fine, or so they would tell themselves…

The truth of the matter is—it wasn’t fine.  Nothing about how they felt for one another and being unable to reciprocate those feelings daily was fine.  It was, however, a fact of their lives.

It wasn’t up to Yuri to tell Otabek what he should do with the free skate.  He wouldn’t want anyone fucking telling him what he _could_ or _couldn’t_ do, and the fact that it wasn’t his body but Otabek’s wasn’t left unnoticed.  If the Kazakh wanted to try for the podium, then he would.  End of story.

Yuri stood up and Otabek felt his heart tighten as dread settled into his stomach.  Then just as quickly as the feeling came it passed with teen’s words,

“I’m going to go get some ice for your knee,” his no nonsense tone informed, “We’re going to order room service, _my_ fucking treat, and we’ll watch some shitty pay per view film.”

Otabek watched as Yuri grabbed the ice bucket from the desk and called over his shoulder before exiting the room, “I’ll be back in a few, _asshole_.”

The boy let out the breath he had been holding and allowed for himself to fall backwards onto the mattress beneath him. 

_I really love him…_

NNN

Yuri barely saw Sergei walking down the hallway as he headed toward the ice machine.  The older man bumped his shoulder and gave him a concerned look,

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he didn’t sound too convincing.  What the fuck was he supposed to say, _I didn’t see you?_  

Yuri settled for, “I’m just tired.  Otabek and I are going to watch movies and order room service.”

Sergei’s brown eyes shown with a look of pride, “You did awesome today, Yuri.”

The younger Russian didn’t feel awesome right now, but he nodded and accepted the compliment. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing and you’re going to break even more records,” he paused and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, his smile unwavering, “but win or lose kid…”  Yuri could feel his shoulder being squeezed in a positive manner, “you’re so damn talented.”

As Yuri watched the ice from the dispenser pour into the bucket, he wondered if there was a way to set Otabek’s mind at ease with mere words.  He was certain food and shitty movies were a good start.

NNN

The food had been pushed aside, the movie going unnoticed, as the act of making out required their full attention. 

“Are you trying to distract me?”

Otabek grinned in between slow kisses, his hand cupping the blond’s cheek as he replied, “I’m trying to distract myself…”

“Is it working?” inquired his boyfriend, a hand resting on Otabek’s shoulder as he pushed closer to gain more leverage. 

“It would be, but _someone_ keeps interrupting my train of thought…”

That same shoulder soon received a hit followed by an announcement that the Kazakh was an _asshole._

NNN

Yuri wasn’t sure how he had gotten roped into this shit.  He shouldn’t have answered Katsudon’s text.  That had been his first mistake. 

He’d been occupying a table with Otabek at the breakfast café in the hotel when his phone had vibrated alerting him to a text. 

**Katsudon:** Yurio, are you free today?

**Yuri:** Not my name, Buta.  And…why?

Every single time the Japanese man or his dumb ass fiancé texted him, no good came from it.  Okay, so the cruise tickets from summer hadn’t been too bad…but _usually_ nothing good happened.

Otabek arched an eyebrow, “Everything okay?”

Yuri groaned, “Viktor’s little piggy wants to go to market to get him a birthday present.  Not sure why the fuck he wants me to go?”

The brunette lifted his tea cup toward his lips and smirked, “Maybe he wants to apologize for coming in first yesterday in the SP?”

Emerald eyes narrowed, as he observed, “You’re a real riot, you know that, _asshole_?”

Otabek took a sip of his tea before commenting, he liked the way Yuri’s face screwed up into mock anger, “I’m planning on taking my show on the road.  You know, if I can’t skate for a bit, I thought I would try comedy.”

“Don’t expect it to pay as well,” teased the blond.  He ate a bite of his breakfast and chewed thoughtfully—mulling over his response.  “Why don’t you come too?”

The Kazakh swiped his mouth with his napkin and replied, “I can’t.  I have to meet with my coach, call home, that sort of thing.”  He watched as Yuri’s face suddenly turned a tad crestfallen and quickly amended his statement, “But I can come late.” 

His lips turned upward, watching as Yuri quickly texted Katsuki his response.

NNN

Yuri and Katsudon occupied a seat on the Skytrain to Metropolis on their way to the Metrotown Mall.  Yuri was already online—this was Vancouver’s largest mall with 450 stores, restaurants, a movie theater and holiday themed events.  Ah yes, the holiday hubbub.

Well, the hubbub surely didn’t disappoint as the brightly colored lights hit the Russian head on and caused him to squint from their excessive wattage.  Hell, every square inch of the entrance appeared to be decked out in gawdy plastic ornaments and a shit ton of tinsel.  Oh good, the inside didn’t fail to match the level of commercialism either. 

Leave it to Viktor Nikiforov—to be just _so_ fucking extra—that he needed to be born in the month where an Elf on the Shelf could be found in the same aisle as a plastic baby Jesus, wedged in between an inflatable snowman and a fat-cookie-loving man in a red suit.

Yuri was going to lay down the law some quick, “If this involves jewelry or something equally lame as fuck, I am out.”

Katsudon laughed and rubbed the back of his head, “No.  That was two years ago after all.  This year…well this year I want to find him something different for his birthday.”

Yuri could only hope that _something different_ could be found before venturing into all 450 shops.  After all, Otabek and Viktor were going to meet them for dinner at 5, so that gave them roughly 5 hours to have a successful mission.

NNN

By the first hour the Japanese man had bought Yuri a pretzel from a vendor after hitting up the ten or so stores along the way that caught his eye.  Katsuki wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to give Viktor for his birthday, he hadn’t exactly lied, but he did want to spend time with the blond whose name he shared. 

Yuri chewed on a bite of pretzel, silently following next to the brunette. 

“So Yurio…” began Katsudon in his usual friendly tone, he watched as emerald eyes narrowed in his direction and a pretzel hung from the teen’s mouth, “Not your name, yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, “I really like your routines this season.

NNN

By the third hour Yuri was certain he was going to end up in the psych ward of a hospital!  If they played that damn _Last Christmas_ song one more fucking time across the mall speaker system, something was going to go _wham_ for sure.

There were only so many fucking foods and beverages Katsudon could shove at the Russian before he would eventually voice his disdain, as they maneuvered through the crowds of people. 

Yuri froze in mid step and felt his hair stand on end in response to the dramatic gasp and girlie cry, “Yuri Plisetsky?!”

Both the blond and his Japanese companion slowly turned to face the town crier and grimaced as if like magic teenaged girls seemed to pop up like daisies from around each and every corner.

NNN

Well, there was definitely not a baby Jesus to be found in this store…

Yuri sucked a deep breath, his brows furrowed, eyes tightly shut, as he controlled his tone and uttered, “This,” another deep breath to quell his anger, “is all _your_ fault.”

The brunette merely smiled nervously, stationed behind a rack—which was festively lit with an assortment of colored lights, which just so happened to showcase the latest version of pleasurable devices for the holiday season.  

“We could always look on the Brightside,” suggested Katsudon, about to note that they were no longer being followed.  However, Katsuki could hear the unspoken _tch_ from his fellow skater. 

Perhaps that had been a poor choice of words?  Since about two minutes prior the Japanese man in a fluster, had quickly ushered Yuri into the nearest store to evade the swarm of hormonal girls.  Once inside he had accidentally pushed the Russian behind a rack, and nearly poked his eye out with a plastic display dildo. 

NNN

Just when all hope seemed to be lost Yuri captured a twinkle in Katsudon’s eyes as he stared at a lit shop window with dancing lights. 

_Fucking finally!_

NNN

Seeming to have made in the nick of time and now carrying a silver bag in hand, Katsudon’s phone started to ring.  The sound earned him a look of judgment from his companion as some Mariah Carey Christmas inspired tune sounded from inside of the Japanese man’s coat pocket.   

Yuri took his phone out and saw a text from Otabek on his phone.

**Otaya:** I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.

**Yuri:** Great. You’re not gonna believe the shit I went through today.

**Otaya:** Sounds like a great dinner conversation.

**Yuri:** Not unless you want to get kicked out of a family styled restaurant.

**Otaya:** I can hardly wait to hear about it back at the hotel…

“Yurio, let’s head toward the restaurant,” suggested Katsuki with a sincere smile. 

Yuri followed behind him as they headed toward the elevator…

NNN

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose.  Outside of the music cutting off before Frosty could melt away, there wasn’t much noise in the nonmoving metal box.  The lights had remained on, so that was promising.    

The Russian pushed the _Door Open_ button and patiently waited.

_Nothing._

He pushed the button once again for good measure.

_Still nothing._

Well at least it was just him and Katusdon, and he didn’t have to piss.  Thank God for something that day. 

His emerald eyes shifted to a sign with black bold lettering to his right on a metal panel of the elevator:

IN AN EMERGENCY

  1. **Stay Calm – you are not in danger**
  2. Pick up the phone handset or push the red button.



(Yuri spared a glance at his companion who looked to be breathing a little faster; he smiled at Katsudon, hoping it would manage to ease his anxiety or some shit).

The phone will automatically call the 24-hour service call center for this elevator.  Stay on the line with the call center until they end the phone call.  Answer any questions and follow any directions that they give to you.

(The teen held the red phone in hand.  Ah yes, the one without a dial tone.  He calmly pushed the red button and gave Katsudon another smile.  By the third push of the red button, he could hear the Japanese man begin to mumble).

  1. The mall staff does not have the tools or training to rescue you from inside the elevator car, BUT someone is on the way to help from the call center as a result of your phone call.
  2. Use phone again if needed.



NOTE: This phone is for emergency use only and will only dial the call center.

Oh, irony around the holidays…

This elevator didn’t smell like Santa and they were sitting in a tin can of lies! 

NNN

Yuri sat in one corner of the elevator, his back pressed against the metal wall.  His companion didn’t look nearly as collected but seemed to be doing some lame ass meditative shit which caused for the Russian to roll his eyes.  At least he wasn’t stuck in this fucking tin can with Viktor. 

_‘Yura?’_

The voice from the other line of his cell phone drew his attention, “Aa?”

_‘They’ve evacuated everyone from the mall due to a fire alarm going off.  Viktor’s pretty much alerted every security guard that Katsuki…I’m not sure if he mentioned you…’_

And Yuri could hear his best friend chuckle at the taunt.

_‘…was stuck in an elevator…’_

“Doesn’t fucking surprise…” 

_‘Yura?’_

“Otabek,” Yuri kept his voice casual, Katsudon appeared to be meditating, and luckily his Russian was shit, “I don’t think someone just burned a gingerbread cookie at the Mrs. Field’s…”

He could hear the groan before it left his boyfriend’s lips, _‘Okay you little shit, I’m officially worried…”_

“Go get Mr. Extra and tell him to cover the mouth piece of the phone.” 

_‘Oh God, hang on…he’s right up some security guy’s ass at the moment…’_

If Yuri timed it, he’d say he had two minutes until Katsudon’s self-induced coma ended abruptly.

_‘Go ahead…’_

“Don’t say anything, just fucking listen.  I’ve got the smell of smoke coming from this side of the elevator,” Yuri mentally groaned at the gasp, “I _said_ listen.  In about 2 minutes, your little fiancé is going to notice, and since I’m fucking hungry, I can’t guarantee he’s not going to be leaving here without a black eye. I would suggest you move your _extra_ self and get someone to report to us, so I can keep both of us calm.”

_Fucking hell…_

“Katsudon, you need to calm down…” he’d put his Bluetooth on and was now hands free as he crouched before the older man.  “…it’s probably just a cake that got left in the oven…”

_‘You’re doing great…’_

Viktor had been sent off to get as much information as possible while Otabek stayed on the line, and his boyfriend’s reassurance helped.  It was a little-known fact that Yuri wasn’t as abrasive as he wanted the world to think.  Katsudon had let the phone slip from his hand a few minutes ago and Yuri found he was on his own in the calming _Buta_ department. 

Katsuki asked something in Japanese and Yuri shrugged his shoulders and offered his palms upward.  “Katsudon, you know my Japanese sucks.  In English?”

The brunette gave a sheepish smile, “You really think it’s just a cake?”

“Of course, you seen all that shit they’ve been making to sell for the holidays?”  Yuri scoffed and then gave a reassuring grin, “It’s a gimmick, get fat for Christmas, get a treadmill in January.  Mark my words, home gyms will be 50% off come New Year’s.”

Finally, a laugh instead of a sniffle. 

_‘Good job, Yura…’_

“Fuck me…”

_‘When you get out maybe…’_

“What?” Yuri could feel his cheeks warm as he shook his head to clear his thoughts, “ _No_.  I mean, the lights just flickered, and...”

NNN

Otabek was growing even more annoyed while standing in the parking lot of the mall, as he awaited Viktor’s return.  For surely, there wasn’t _really_ a fire inside of the building where his boyfriend and Viktor’s fiancé were trapped in a fucking elevator, right?

“What’s wrong?”  He knew the Russian well enough to pick up on the change in his voice. 

_‘Katsudon, I need you to stand up.’_

The Kazakh could definitely hear coughing and Otabek knew there was now a chink in his armor.  He was not going to panic.

_‘Katsudon, listen to me…’_ and Otabek could hear his best friend repeating himself, _‘Oi, listen.  I’m not going to let anything happen to you.’_

The brunette could see firemen now entering the building, “Yura, they are sending in the fire department.”

NNN

Yuri let out a sigh of relief, “Your annoying fiancé has sent in the fire department, and probably the Canadian equivalent of the FSB to retrieve us,” the teen informed, coughing and soon covering his mouth with the collar of his jacket.

NNN

If Viktor didn’t calm down, Otabek was certain that the Russian was going to be arrested for disorderly conduct. 

_‘We’re not fucking staying here…’_ There appeared to be a conflict from their smoky confinement.

_‘Whoa…whoa…what?!’_

_‘Did I stutter? Push me up to the ceiling and I’ll pop the hatch.  It’s better than fucking coughing in this shitty tin can!’_

_‘Yurio, I think we should—_

Otabek grimaced, either Katsuki was none too bright or he’d never been in between Yuri Plisetsky and one of his ideas.

_‘Okay! Okay!’_ He could hear the Japanese man’s frantic tone of voice coming across the speaker of the phone. 

_‘Jeez, Katsudon…haven’t you ever watched an episode of CSI?  How do you think the firemen rescue people in elevators?’_

NNN

Yuri slammed the metal door of the hatch closed and sighed, now sitting on top of the car next to his companion. 

_‘Are you two alright, Yura?’_

“We’re just nice and fucking cozy sitting in an elevator shaft,” replied the blond with not too much enthusiasm.

“Not much of a view, I’m afraid,” offered Katsuki with a small smile. 

Yuri could hear a beep in his ear and sighed, “Otabek, my phone’s about to die.  We’ll be out soon, and I hope Viktor knows he’s buying my dinner.”  He glared at the silver bag in Katsudon’s lap. “It’s technically his fault I’m in this situation.”

“Uh…wouldn’t it be _my_ fault?”  questioned the brunette at his side, arching an eyebrow, his face holding a look of confusion.

“Shut up, Katsudon.”

NNN

It was a long wait after Yuri’s phone had gone dead.  Viktor had been notified which exit the firemen would be delivering his Yuuri to and resembled a puppy that needed to pee, as he bounced anxiously next to the Kazakh.

The noise that came out over the security guard’s walkie set both of the men at ease,

_‘We found them.  Are you two alright?’_

_‘We’re fine!’_

Viktor gasped at the sound of his Yuuri’s voice and Otabek thought he might have to restrain the silver haired man from removing the walkie from the guard’s grip.

_‘We can take one of you at a time.’_

_‘Take him.  He said he has to piss.’_

Otabek nearly choked on his own spit—even the guard’s shoulders shook a little—that was the love of his life. 

_‘We’ll be right back for you.’_

_‘Okay…’_ there was a pause and then the sarcasm, _‘I’ll be right here…’_

NNN

Otabek was certain he was going to drown in the excess amount of PDA coming from the two men who had been reunited.  They hadn’t let go of one another and Viktor was busy peppering Katsuki’s cheeks with kisses. 

Not like the brunette wanted PDA, he merely wanted his boyfriend already…

He frowned as Viktor continued to prattle, “You must have been so scared my Yuuri!  It’s alright.”

_Finally…_

Otabek felt the weight lifted from his chest as he saw Yuri making his way toward them with a middle-aged responder.  The blond appeared to be signing something, which might have indicated that the man had an _angel_ in the family.

Yuri made his way toward his best friend and smirked, “I told you I shouldn’t have answered that text.”

Otabek sighed before offering his fist, as Yuri returned the action and they bumped.  Oh, fuck it, the brunette pulled his boyfriend in for a hug.

“Can you manage to seek attention in an appropriate way,” advised Otabek with a groan, “Setting a mall on fire is a little excessive, don’t you think?”

Yuri grumbled and retorted, “I’m hoping the sex shop Katsudon pushed me into burned.”

NNN

“I’m going to compete in the free skate on Saturday,” Otabek’s voice filled the silence that had settled in the hotel room as he held his boyfriend in his arms. 

Yuri looked upward in the dimly lit room, his chin resting on the Kazakh’s chest as the credits of the film rolled on the TV screen.  They were both lying in Yuri’s hotel bed, still stuffed from dinner with Viktor and Katsuki.

“I told my coach that I want to at least try to podium,” explained the brunette, his fingers slowly running up and down one of Yuri’s arms.  “If I can do that, then even if I miss Four Continents, I could still qualify for Worlds.”

“Then fucking do it,” encouraged Yuri with a grin, shifting so he straddled his boyfriend’s lap, “because I am going to be stuck with Viktor at Nationals and the EU…” he groaned, just thinking of the terrible visual was enough to give him indigestion. 

Otabek reached up and pushed Yuri’s head lower so secure a kiss, “You do suffer so…”

“Fucking tell me about it,” the Russian looked smug as he returned the kiss, “so I’m going to need you to keep my sanity in Japan.”

“You might already be too far gone for— 

Otabek chuckled, feeling the wind knocked out of him momentarily, from Yuri’s quick blow. 

“ _Asshole_ …”

NNN

Thank you for taking the time to follow this story as always!  I appreciate all the comments and kudos as they inspire me to write more.  

   


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